


A Toast for Do-Overs

by quasiouster (QuasiOuster)



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23994115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuasiOuster/pseuds/quasiouster
Summary: Sometimes a small, random incident can change everything. This starts during the earthquake response efforts at the brewery and the redux plays out from there.
Relationships: Claire Browne & Neil Melendez, Claire Browne/Neil Melendez
Comments: 95
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, this multi-chapter story took me a few weeks to hammer out (a whopping 62 pages). I'm excited to share. I think it's okay to spoil a little that there will be no Neil dying in this. But there's still a lot of angst and emotions and stuff. Since each chapter gets its own final edit, I'll post as much as I can get done in a sitting.
> 
> I wanted to play around with the sequence of lines and scenes, so it took a bit of time to make sure the continuity all made sense (although I'm sure there are still some mistakes in there for which I apologize). Also, I did a bit of research, but I'm not even close to being a medical professional so apologies for all of the things I know I got wrong or took a lot of creative license with. 
> 
> I think it's kind of a sweet story that I enjoyed writing, so I hope you like it too!

**_Show Me_ **

Keep it professional, Claire. Focus. This is what she repeats to herself in the back of the ambulance speeding towards the Bold Statement Brewery.

She remains silent on the way to her H.U.R.T. team’s assigned triage site, feigning calm and focus yet close to unraveling. Even as she secures her hazard gear and gathers her medical kit, she remains intent on being prepared for anything, reigning in her urge to run inside and confirm for herself that Neil is okay. The last thing she needs right now is for panic to set in and draw attention to her lovesick feelings for her Attending.

Even with such resolve, Claire feels outwardly exposed and vulnerable, though she’s only admitted her forbidden attraction to herself and her therapist. Her turbulent emotions make her seem a stranger to herself. It’s hard not see the situation as a personal failing, a weakness for acting as if she’s so desperate for the attention that she falls for the first person in a long time to treat her as if she matters. Just a few words of gratitude from him has her pining away. His warm smile or a soft glance unwittingly encourages her to let loose the affection she’s let bloom into desire. It’s unleashed a longing for him, a temptation that sparked the moment he’d told her, without reservation, that she makes him a better person.

No, that’s not quite right. It’s been building for a while. She simply failed to notice, so distracted by the subtle descent of falling for him piece by piece.

It’s not a crush; it’s far worse. After years of running away from men, she’s let her guard down and started to crave this thing between them that she wants to convince herself is real. Given that their friendship started with him offering to run by her side, there’s some kind of irony in thinking of Neil this way.

No, not ‘Neil’ anymore. Melendez. She has to distance herself, keep it professional, or she’ll ruin everything.

Her therapist has been patient with helping her process the situation. When she’d explained about what happened in Melendez’s office that night of her confession, her therapist had validated Claire’s confusion about what he’d been trying to say to her. Maybe it’s innocent, maybe not, but the signals were mixed, her therapist had said. That it triggered these questions in Claire’s mind was perfectly normal. Claire had continued to contextualize it, speaking of their runs as a welcome opportunity for mentorship and their time spent together as friendly support. She’d condemned her co-residents’ suggestions that she got special treatment as sour grapes over her rapport with their Attending.

As they’d talked things through that night, she began to see her and Neil’s interactions from a different angle.The growing intimacy, the comfort of his company and warmth of his attention, the steady signs that he returned her regard and sought her out as much as, if not more, than she did him? None of it mattered in the end, because he’ll never act on it. His moral compass will never allow him to be anything more than a boss and friend to her.

So, Claire’s kept her revelation to herself, knowing it serves no one to give voice to it. She retreats from her romance with Dash, which they’d both thought for the best anyway after talking it over. That had actually been the biggest upside, the easing of that relationship into a comfortable friendship again.

Yet, there’s a pain there, and she’ll need to figure out soon whether her and Neil’s friendship can continue as it has while this ache eats away at her.

Now prepared to focus on the emergency in front of her, Claire passes Shaun and Glassman, barely registering their conversation. She’s happy Glassman is fine too, but submits to her need to get inside and to Neil. Walking into the building – if you could still even call it that in this state of destruction – her anxiety flares again at the disaster that greets her. The room is destroyed, heavy beams collapsed into the once open space and too many people looking dazed or worse lying about as the EMTs and first responders secure the area.

Then she spots him across the room, looking dusty and agitated but alive and alert. The usually impeccably attired Melendez is dirty and scraped up. Claire can already see what looks to be a nasty cut on his head and wonders what other injuries he’ll try to hide.

She calls his name. Wants to say more. But he’s immediately about business, rattling off his assessment on the woman he’s been anxiously pacing in front of – the owner who he’s told her is a former patient. He doesn’t ask how she is. Doesn’t give any indication that he’d spared her a thought after such a life-threatening event. She doubts herself and her feelings all the more.

It doesn’t matter right now that he doesn’t love her back.

And no matter what she has to tell herself to get through this, she won’t deny that she loves him and can’t go another second without making sure he’ll weather this immediate emergency. Cutting him off, she reaches for him, asks if he’s alright.

Neil waves her off, of course, though he submits to her when she gently cradles his face and checks for signs of a head injury. He downplays any harm to himself, even as he smiles gently at her and assures her that he’s fine. Thankful that he doesn’t argue when she insists on assessing the bruise on his side, he instead makes a joke and agrees to getting checked out after he’s transported the patient to the hospital. If they leave now, he should be there in ten minutes and that’s a fair tradeoff. She has no doubt he’ll try to wiggle out if it and makes a mental note to call ahead to make sure Andrews or the nurse in charge knows to insist.

Shaun appears out of nowhere as they begin the process of moving their patient, Marta, to a stretcher and announces that she’s even worse off than they thought. It’s an amazing and lucky intervention, though his disappearing act afterward to find Lea sparks a bit of aggravation. She’s worried about the person she loves, too. That doesn’t mean she can abandon her responsibilities – and she knows Melendez would be pissed if she did.

But she can’t say that to Shaun or anyone, her dirty little secret.

This new development with the patient is an annoying hurdle to getting Melendez checked out. When he calls for the battery-powered x-ray, she tenses in frustration, pushes her feelings into the deepest parts of her, and complies with his request.

* * *

“Try it again.” Neil’s terse order to the EMT with the portable x-ray machine causes Claire to glance up from the darkened screen he’s holding, concerned.

“Sorry, Doctor. This happens from time to time. Just give it a second to re-buffer and send the image over.”

Neil’s frown deepens, which is a look Claire is very familiar with. It says, I’m biting my tongue so I don’t bite your head off. An idea forms about how to distract him, although she hopes it doesn’t backfire on her.

She walks over to the EMT and looks over his shoulder at the blinking screen. “Maybe we need to try testing it on an actual person rather than waiting for all the startup icons to switch over. Dr. Melendez?” Neil looks at her, questioning. “You’ll be getting scanned anyway at the hospital so why don’t we get an image of your abdomen to make sure this is working before scanning the patient.”

Instead of reacting angrily or as if he’s irritated, an amused smirk replaces his previous frown. “Guinea pig, huh? You’re being annoyingly tenacious about me getting checked out.” Again, his words tell one story, but the clear affection and familiarity in his voice makes her stomach flutter against her will.

“You’re the one that said doctors make the worst patients.” Although he tries to appear put out at the reminder, she can tell he thinks her response is funny. Claire has the EMT walk over. She considers easing the awkwardness of the situation by making a joke about how she keeps trying to get his shirt off; she thinks better of it.

Instead, she waits for Neil to lift up his shirt and reaches over to hold the x-ray machine in place while it clicks and buzzes. After casually tucking his shirt back in, Neil checks the image on his screen and finds it lit up with an image blinking into view. But then the screen goes dark, appears to reboot, and flashes that it’s ready to go. The EMT confirms all the icons have populated on his end too.

Neil grins. “Well, what do you know. Looks like you were right, Dr. Browne”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” she jokes, and his smile widens. Their eyes meet for a few seconds and they share a light moment before he turns to nod at the tech to proceed with the scan of Marta’s spine.

As the image populates, the EMT packs up the machine and speaks softly into his radio. “They need a scan out in front. You good? The image looks clean and fully downloaded. I have an extra tablet, but just run this back to me when you’re done. The test scan is probably stuck in the buffer, but I’ll save it if when it comes through. It might not happen until we connect it to the main server, though.”

“I’m fine, so don’t worry about it. We’ll take it from here and return the tablet in a few minutes.” Claire flashes him a sideways glance, which Neil picks up on. “I _am_ fine. Stop worrying. I think I know my symptoms better than you do.”

Claire scoffs and mutters so only he can hear her, “maybe the doctor without the head injury should make the call.”

This time, he does appear annoyed with her. “What’s that, Dr. Browne?”

“Nothing,” she replies, quickly, not wanting to escalate things with him, especially in front of the patient. Everyone is on edge because of the emergency, so she knows she needs to tread carefully. “I’ll return the tablet myself after we assess the patient.”

Neil sends her another glance of displeasure, but turns his attention to the now fully downloaded image and the very real complication in front of them. Claire remains silent, but stands at his side to continue their consult.

Shaun was right, and the news worsens the situation for Marta. When Claire suggests they can operate on-site there, Neil turns his gaze to her considering, accepting, and then understanding her full apprehension at offering this solution for the sake of the patient.

They did this more often now, communicating with each other through glances and gestures, not having to say a word to know what the other is thinking. He sees the worry in her expression warring with her determination to do her job and fix their patient. It’s familiar to him, so much like his own drive. Their synergy that she knows can never go the direction she wants it to is haunting her. 

Instead of getting distracted again, she listens as Neil explains the situation to Marta and her wife, Noreen. And then he again utters the words that lately fill her with pride, friendship, trust, and longing in equal parts.

“Dr. Browne is right.”

Neil’s evaluation, her chaotic feelings, all of the distractions will have to wait. They need to operate right here, right now.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

_**Gettin' in the Way** _

Lim directs two more patients to the holding area next to the fire response team. She hasn’t seen a trauma scene this severe in a while. Luckily, most of the injuries have been treatable and relatively minor, but the ones that aren’t are posing some pretty major problems.

The fact that the ER and surgical units at the hospital are short-staffed is stressful enough. Shaun’s run off looking for Lea, which she’ll have to deal with when this is all over. Park has an almost certain fatal young patient who they can do little for, and Melendez and Browne are preparing for emergency surgery in the middle of a disaster. If an aftershock hits, they all could end up worse off.

“Doctor, you wanted to sign off on the two patients we’re transporting over next. I have their x-rays right here ready to download.” He makes some adjustments to the equipment and Lim sees her screen flash and then turn off. The tech leans over. “Sorry, this thing has been on the blink. Hold on.” He pushes a few more buttons and the scan comes through.

Lim stares at the image in front of her and frowns. “Why isn’t this labeled? That’s the first thing we need to be doing to catalogue our images so there’s no confusion about who we’re treating.”

The tech looks over at Lim’s scan. “That can’t be right. I remember finalizing the download into the system. The scan numbers have my daughter’s birthday, so I’m sure.”

Pointing to the empty log number, Lim confirms that there’s no longer any identifying information associated with this scan. “I don’t know what happened, but it’s not here now. And why was this person not in the transport that left five minutes ago instead of in holding? There’s some troublesome shading here in the abdomen, possibly internal bleeding, but we’ll need to do an MRI to confirm.”

“That can’t be right,” the EMT says. “Both patients have wrist injuries from falling. No abdominal complaints at all and certainly no scans of that area.”

“I’m not making this up, look at it,” she shoves the screen back at him. “If it’s not from those two patients, then whose scans are these? They need medical attention ASAP.”

“Oh shit,” he says. “We were having problems with this machine earlier when doing the scan for Dr. Melendez. Dr. Browne had us do a test scan on his abdominal injury he’s supposed to get checked out after transporting the patient. The scan got stuck in the buffer. But now they’re about to do surgery, so he definitely didn’t go back with a transport.”

Lim stiffens. “This is Dr. Melendez’s scan?” The EMT nods. “Where is he?” she asks, as calmly as she can.

“Last I saw, he and Dr. Browne were gathering supplies over there in Transport 4.” He points up the block, but the ambulance looks locked up at the moment. “They must have gone inside to prep.”

“Alright. Get those two patients onto the next transport, and I’ll deal with this.”

Lim jogs over to the building entrance, climbing over debris and dodging personnel to find Neil. She still holds the tablet with the image and feels as if it may crack from the pressure of her grip. She finally spots him standing soberly with Claire at a respectable distance away from a tall woman in a dress talking with the patient. Right before she reaches them, they jump into action and begin setting up for surgery.

“Neil,” Lim calls over. “I need to show you something.”

* * *

Neil directs the two spare EMTs assisting him to spread out their equipment while Claire moves around the back of the patient to begin prepping her for surgery. He hears Lim call his name and acknowledges her after giving everyone their orders.

“Can this wait? We need to get moving so we can get Marta out of here and back to the hospital.”

“No, it can’t wait. And you won’t be doing any surgery.” She turns to Claire. “Dr. Browne finish prepping. I’ll be taking over.”

Neil whips around, a flash of anger in his eyes. “The hell you are. Marta is my patient. I’m doing her surgery. I don’t need to be a hotshot trauma specialist to get this done.”

Glaring at him, she chooses to ignore his frustrated barb that Neil would admit borders on insubordination. “It’s not that.” She lifts up the scan for him to examine. From the corner of his eye, he sees Claire watching with interest as she continues to work. “The x-ray tech pulled this up on the tablet, said it was in the buffer from right after he turned it on.”

The screen shows a standard abdominal image. Upon closer inspection, the shading by the bowel indicates that something is going on there, potentially an internal bleed. He feels an iciness seize his body.

“Neil, the timestamp and lack of ID information indicates this is the test scan on you that Dr. Browne very rightly insisted on. You need to get back to the hospital now.”

His hand reflexively wanders to his side where the beam hit him. The bruise looked normal. He doesn’t feel great, but he’s not distressed. As he’d told Claire, he otherwise doesn’t feel any more pain than he should with such an injury. Adrenaline, the dire nature of their situation, the responsibilities he has in front of him are what he’s been focusing on.

And yet those are all things that could be masking a very real and serious problem. He’s stubborn and arrogant, but he won’t lie to himself about that.

Speechless, Neil glances from Lim to his patient and finally to Claire as she continues to watch them. She couldn’t have heard Lim’s explanation, but she knows something important has developed.

“I can’t—”

“—you can and you will. Next transport leaves in five. This is happening.”

At this point, Claire has wandered over having pieced together the situation. She looks at the scan, and her eyes darken with a sadness that takes him by surprise. He wants to argue. Wants to insist he’s fine so he can take care of his patient.

Then Claire looks up at him, her eyes slightly watery and pleading.

It’s the same flash of anxiety he saw when she’d first examined him and he’d brushed her off. At the time, he couldn’t let himself get distracted by his infatuation with her or the crushing relief at seeing her approach him through the debris, having survived the earthquake unscathed. This look from her no doubt reflects the fear creeping in that she’ll lose someone else she cares about and be left alone. The panic in her eyes, it gives him pause. She doesn’t need to say anything. That one tragic, nearly broken expression reveals everything.

No matter what he insists he’s capable of right now in his desire to treat his patients, the one thing he can’t do is disappoint this beautifully fragile woman who only wants him to be safe and well.

“Okay,” he says, directing the acceptance at Lim but never breaking contact with Claire’s gaze.

“What’s going on?” Noreen asks, panicked and not in a state to handle any more trauma related to her wife’s care. “Are we still doing the surgery?”

Neil turns toward her to assure her, but Lim responds first. “I’m sorry for the last-minute change. I’m Dr. Audrey Lim. I’ll be stepping in for Dr. Melendez.”

If Noreen wasn’t skittish before, she’s downright ready to walk out with Marta herself right now at hearing this change of plans.

Lim pivots to address Marta while including Noreen in her explanation. “It turns out that Dr. Melendez is more injured than we thought. That test scan we took earlier shows some possible internal bleeding. It may well be nothing, but I don’t want to risk his health or yours and am sending him back to the hospital immediately for evaluation.”

Beside him, Claire’s let out a quiet but hearty breath at the confirmation that Neil will be getting treatment sooner rather than later. She doesn’t back down as he notices her relief, in fact, she seems rather defiant and vindicated by the development. He rolls his eyes at her but lets a grin slip onto his lips as well.

Instead of expressing alarm, Marta smiles slightly. “Of course, thank you Dr. Lim. Dr. Melendez, I don’t want you on my surgery. I won’t risk your life for mine. And Dr. Browne, I know you’re too professional to say it to him, but Dr. Melendez, she told you so.”

“Oh, she would have said it later, of that I’m sure.” He and Claire exchange another amused glance with each other, knowing he’s right.

Lim smiles at her colleagues and at the woman’s good humor in the face of something so scary for her. “I’ll take good care of you as will Dr. Browne. I’m pretty damn good. Better than this guy, actually. That’s why I’m his boss.” Neil shakes his head, but is glad for the levity. She takes his tablet with the surgical protocols and quickly looks over the scans. “I got this, Neil. I’m going to go update Park and check on Murphy and the field team leads, and I’ll be back in three minutes. You better be gone when I get back. Browne can brief me while we finish prepping.” She turns away and then steps back for a moment. “And Neil, don’t even think about getting out of this. I’m calling the ER, and they’ll have their instructions.” She smirks at him, but Neil sees the worry and affection as well. Hands on his hips, he nods and watches her walk away.

Neil turns back to Marta and Noreen. Even though they are accepting of this change, he can sense a stress creep in that he’d worked hard to alleviate only a few minutes before.

“Marta, she’s a pain in my ass, but she’s right. Dr. Lim is the chief of surgery at St. Bonaventure and one of the best trauma surgeons in the country. If you have to have your kind of procedure in the middle of all this, she’s the first person you’d want on your team.” Noreen nods sadly as Marta lets his words sink in.

Looking over at Claire, she’s gone straight back to business cutting off Marta’s blouse so they can sterilize and access the operating area. “And you’re in excellent hands with Dr. Browne. There’s no one I trust more.”

Claire’s head pops up at hearing that, her focused, determined expression from a moment before settling into something soft and warm as she stares at him. Her eyes spark and brighten and her cheeks flush at the compliment. This flash of something electric from her, between the both of them, lasts only a few beats before she remembers herself and looks away to continue with her tasks, a little more nervously than before.

He marvels at how extraordinary she is. This whole night, she’s been calm under pressure despite her worry and stress. She’d boldly pushed for doing the surgery here, sensing how much Marta meant to him. And she’d seized an opportunity to trick him into getting treatment sooner rather than later, demonstrating that unshakeable commitment to helping even at the risk of his disapproval. Traitorous emotions that have been building these past months, that he’s been trying and failing to fight, swell.

Neil shakes these thoughts away, not for being embarrassed or ashamed, but for knowing that there isn’t a damn thing he can do about his feelings; not if he wants to preserve both their reputations and careers. 

Instead, he sighs, catches Claire’s eye one more time, and walks away.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

_**Try** _

Claire and Dr. Lim get through the surgery successfully, not that it went off without a hitch.

The underlying tension for both of them as they went about their duties was knowing that Neil could be facing a serious medical situation. Were the scans right and he was more injured than he looked? Is it an easy fix? It hung over them like a heavy mist, not intruding on their focus, but always softly pushing against their awareness.

Thankfully, everything about Marta’s surgery, save for the location and circumstances, begins in textbook fashion. They don’t hit a snag until Marta’s bleeding triggers blood transfusion protocols.

Maybe it’s a lucky break that Claire had worked in plenty of bars during college. Or maybe it’s the urgency for their patient with her wife standing beside them as they operate. Or possibly it’s that cloud of anxiety about news on Neil, whether he’s fine and filling in with triage in the ER or whether he’s on an operating table fighting for his life himself due to internal bleeding they didn’t quite catch in time. But when Claire feels the seconds ticking by as they either figure out a solution to their surgical impasse or wait for back-up blood transfusion equipment, she has an idea and disappears. She doesn’t come back until she’s offering up a way for them to both continue treating their patient and hurry things along so they can get back to the hospital.

A beer engine as a cell saver. Even Dr. Lim is impressed.

And it works. They pump Marta’s own blood back into her, bypassing an outside transfusion in the process. She hears an audible sound of relief as Dr. Lim pulls the screw out and closes Marta up, handing over the souvenir to Noreen.

“Dr. Browne, help the EMTs get Marta back to transport and escort her to the hospital. They’re short-handed and you can join the ER crew when you get her settled.” Claire nods and collects their equipment as the EMTs prepare a stretcher for Marta.

“When will you know if she’s going to be okay?” Noreen asks, still staring at the screw.

Claire smiles at her, hopefully offering some assurance. “When she wakes up. You can ride in the transport with me.” The woman smiles tightly and gazes back down at her still sedated wife.

Lim and Claire strip off their surgical gear, Lim handing over her items for Claire to add to their medical waste collection. “There’s still a risk of infection, so we’ll monitor her closely.” Now able to check her phone, Lim immediately scrolls through her messages and frowns as she turns to Claire. “Andrews says he found internal bleeding and took Melendez to surgery to investigate and repair. That was half an hour ago.”

“I’ll text you with news when I get there,” Claire offers. Lim nods, eyes stressed but looking around to see what remains to be done. She’d told Claire about the other emergencies and had probably received updates on both Shaun’s predicament and Park’s fatal patient and needs to get back out there. “Tell Shaun to hang in there. I’ll see him soon.” She smiles at Lim, not her brightest but a sincere show of support. Lim offers her one back and then disappears into the frenzy of the rescue scene.

Claire doesn’t want to rush the EMT’s, but she’s glad when they carefully move Martha to the stretcher and she can guide them to the transport. She and Lim made good time on the surgery. Hopefully, Neil’s is equally as straightforward and successful.

On the way to the hospital, Claire tries to remain busy monitoring Marta’s vitals – anything to instill a sense of calm for the patient’s wife trying not to worry that Marta hasn’t regained consciousness yet. “It’s normal for her to still be sleeping. We’ll get her settled and wait for her to come out of the anesthesia on her own.”

“Thank you. For everything. No matter what happens, I know you’ve done all you can.”

Staring down at Marta, who looks peaceful and content for someone who’d just had major surgery, Claire smiles. “I couldn’t risk Dr. Melendez’s disapproval for not taking care of her. I know he wanted to do that himself.”

Noreen allows herself to relax a bit as she returns Claire’s smile. “You two make a good team.” Something about the way she says it gives Claire pause. Before either of them comment on that any further, they sense movement from in front of them.

Marta. She’s waking up.

Claire and the EMT note her vitals with Claire conducting the first tests of whether the surgery worked. Noreen still grips Marta’s hand and looks as if she’s holding in this anticipatory breath for as long as it takes to bring the love of her life back to her whole and healthy.

“Marta?” Noreen calls out and sobs as their eyes meet.

Leaning over to assess Marta’s awareness, Claire asks, “can you squeeze Noreen’s hand?”

This is the real test, and Claire holds still, hoping for the best alongside the woman next to her. If she hadn’t seen with her own eyes Marta’s fingers wrapping around Noreen’s in a strong grip, the smile on the women’s faces would have told her everything she needs to know.

“We’re almost to the hospital,” Claire says, grinning at them both.

“My two warrior women doctors. Free beer for life. And Maybe Melendez, too,” Marta drawls. They all chuckle as the ambulance pulls into the hospital entrance.

It’s not until they get Marta out of the ambulance and to the entrance that the tremors start up again.

“Aftershock! Claire calls out. Hang on!” She grabs Marta’s stretcher and braces against the side wall of the hospital’s entryway. Even though the shaking only lasts for less than ten seconds, it’s a tense stretch of time standing out in the open with a vulnerable patient to protect. The tremors subside and Claire does a quick check for injuries before resuming their path inside. “Alright, let’s get her inside so she can get cleaned up.”

Although a full ER greets her with nurse’s running to and fro, it’s not nearly as bad as it could have been. And with the aftershock, they’re likely to get even more incoming soon. Claire spots Nurse Villanueva and rushes over. “Hey, I know it’s crazy, but is there a room where we can admit a post-op patient?”

“Post-op?” She asks glancing at where the EMTs are transferring Marta to a regular bed from the stretcher. “You mean, you operated on her at the brewery?”

Claire smirks. “Not ideal, but what are you going to do, right?” Villanueva shrugs and grins back. “There should be a few beds upstairs. We haven’t escalated many serious cases thankfully. Mostly treating here and sending along.” She pauses a beat before continuing. “Dr. Melendez is still in surgery but may be done soon. Andrews had Hawks schedule the OR for someone else in the queue.”

“Thanks, Dalisay,” Claire says, softly. “I’ll text Lim too. There are a few emergencies she’s monitoring, but she should be back soon.” She looks around. “Who the hell is in charge if Andrews and I assume Glassman are in surgery?”

Villanueva sighs and rolls her eyes, gesturing down the hall. Claire sees Morgan stomping toward them, looking stressed and holding her bandaged hands out in front of her. Claire doesn’t know what to make of the scene at all.

“Don’t ask,” Villanueva says and scurries off in the opposite direction.

Claire turns back to Marta and Noreen, but Morgan runs in front of her. “Claire, thank god. I thought I was going to have to do this myself. There’s a patient prepping for surgery with an ectopic pregnancy and it’s about to rupture. Glassman and Andrews are still in surgery. You’ve gotta get in there.”

“Morgan calm down—”

“—no time for calm, you need to scrub in. I’ll take care of your patients.”

“Okay, but I need to—”

“No. Ruptured fallopian tube imminent.”

“Did you clear this with Glassman or Andrews?” Reznick squirms and Claire’s lips purse in frustration.

When she looks back at Morgan, though, her annoyance subsides. Her co-resident is clearly stressed and probably feeling useless with her hands out of commission. That she’s even trying to help is a good thing. Some of it is probably to get back into their bosses’ good graces, yet deep down, Claire knows it’s because she’s as dedicated to treating patients as any of them.

“I’ll check with Andrews.” Morgan nods and pushes Claire toward the surgical wing, which irritates her. Rather than be prodded like a show horse, Claire backtracks to where Morgan is storming over to Marta and Noreen. She needs to troubleshoot the situation before Morgan can blow anything up with her manic bedside manner.

Claire steps in, gently pushing Morgan out of the way. “Marta, I’m needed for another surgery, so Dr. Reznick will get you situated and officially admitted. Don’t mind her manner. She’s an excellent doctor even when she’s not down two hands. Thankfully, you won’t need either for her to make sure you’re comfortable and settled.”

Turning to Morgan, she spends a minute explaining the surgery to her and the post-op needs to stave off infection setting in. When Claire finishes, she squeezes Marta’s hand and Noreen’s shoulder and heads off to check in with Andrews and prep for her new surgery.

It isn’t until Claire rounds the corner of the surgical hallway, that she thinks about potentially seeing Neil cut open as she checks in with Andrews. It slows her footsteps for a moment, though she continues, cautious. It’s too late now that she’s here, and besides she needs to check-in with Andrews rather than proceed with a solo surgery without permission. That she’ll get an update on Neil is a necessary side effect.

Except when she approaches the designated OR suite, she sees Andrews checking over paperwork and a skeleton team of staff sterilizing and cleaning up for the next patient.

Andrews looks up when Claire enters. “He’s over in ICU. He had injuries to the SMA with minor damage to the celiac trunk that I repaired. We’ll need to monitor his lactates regularly, but I think we got in there before peritonitis had a chance to do any irreparable damage.” He pauses and fixes her with a gravely serious stare. “You probably saved his life. Or at least gave him a fighting chance. You and Lim both.” Claire shakes her head. “He told me how it went down. If you hadn’t thought fast and used that equipment malfunction as a chance to get a scan, he would have insisted he was fine, kept on treating patients. None of you would have known anything was wrong. Whether it was luck or,” he pauses again, “something else, he owes you one.”

“I, uh, that’s good news,” Claire finally says, awkwardly, but so relieved. “Thank you for telling me.” She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and lets it sink in that Neil is probably going to be okay. When she opens her eyes again, Andrews is grinning slightly.

“I actually came in here to say that Dr. Reznick flagged an ectopic pregnancy ready for surgery. No one’s on hand so she said I’d have to do it. With two more patients in need of surgery, and only three of us until Lim gets back, I’m the only one available to do it. I’ve assisted on at least a dozen of these, the most recent one two weeks ago. And I know these aren’t ideal conditions, but I just helped Lim remove a screw from someone’s neck in the middle of a demolished brewery so I think I can handle this.”

Claire feels her chest rise and fall rapidly with nerves and adrenaline as she makes her case, rambles it really. Andrews looks a bit speechless by her argument.

“Okay, Dr. Browne, proceed. Keep a line to me hot for consult just in case.” He then moves around her and back out in the hallway to prepare for his next patient.

Claire lets out another deep breath and looks around the sparsely populated OR, everyone going about their business efficiently. She slowly retreats to begin reviewing her patient’s file and scrub in.

He’s okay. He’s really going to be okay, she allows herself to accept. In the midst of all this chaos, it’s the only thing she needs to keep moving forward.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a touch on the racy side, nothing explicit though. So beware the end.

_**Love Rain** _

Neil’s head is foggy. He hears sounds, sees dim light beyond his closed eyes. He’s unused to this kind of confusion upon waking up, and it’s frustrating him. He frowns and struggles to move.

Now that awareness is returning, he also registers a pain and discomfort all over, his head, his mid-section especially. Did he fall? Eat something bad? Why couldn’t he remember?

Piece by piece it begins to come together: heart monitor, the weight of a light blanket, shuffling feet in the distance. He can now feel what must be stitches along his stomach and his movement is pulling at them uncomfortably.

Brewery.

Earthquake.

Internal Bleeding.

Emergency surgery.

Damn.

Neil’s eyes open and he confirms that he’s lying in a bed in his own hospital. Turning his head toward the empty hallway, he can see movement beyond the curtain shielding part of his room and hear someone’s soft voice on the phone not far away. He waits until he’s a little more alert to try any dramatic movement. Soon enough his head clears and he can track the events of the last several hours from the charity event at the brewery to his trip to the OR. Carefully, he sits up and takes mental note that everything is still in working order. Or at least everything he can assess himself.

Reaching down, he pushes the blanket off him and pulls up his gown to find the bandage covering the incision on his abdomen. All of this seems like such a crazy dream. He exercises regularly, eats well, is a careful driver and keeps his stress levels to a minimum. And then some freak accident brings him so close to death. He peels back the bandage to find the dramatic stitching extending several inches. It’s neat but harsh and angry, skin red and puffy from the irritation.

So distracted, he doesn’t hear the footsteps entering his room. “You’re awake!” Neil puts the bandage back in place and looks up to greet Audrey.

“I think the scar will work with the tattoo.”

She laughs. “That’s what you’re concerned about after everything that’s happened?” Her eyes wander over him looking for signs of distress and straying for a moment to check his vitals on the monitor. “Andrews said it was a close call, but the surgery went well. Caught the ischemic bowel before peritonitis set in. No ostomy. Lactates are good. We’ll have to wait and see about any residual effects, but the worst was avoided.” She pauses to sit at the side of his bed. “You got really lucky, Neil.”

The bags under her tired eyes show the stress of a long night. Her scrubs are rumpled and she’s tied her hair into a messy bun that looks seconds from coming undone. She’s definitely been through the ringer. And he’s so damn grateful for it.

“From what I heard, it was less about luck and more about my pushy boss ordering me back to the hospital.” They both smile gently.

“I am good for that. I’m just glad I could do something to help,” she adds soberly, her expression then transforming to smugness. “Of course, I still had to pick up your slack. As usual.”

It feels good to be sitting here with someone he loves, who knows him better than most people and who, he can tell, is openly relieved and happy that he’s still in the land of the living. “Thank you. I’m grateful.”

She nods. “Try not to be so dramatic for a while. This was a lot to handle. How are you feeling? Any discomfort or pain that seems off? And be honest.” She levels a stern look at him that indicates she’ll be taking no macho bullshit from him. He doesn’t have the energy for posturing anyway.

“I feel like crap. But nothing that isn’t to be expected.” She looks him over once more before appearing to accept the assessment.

“So. Any visions of the other side while you were out? Did you find your life flashing before your eyes?” she jokes.

“Unrealized futures? Like spending a lifetime drinking whiskey with you? It’s a nice thought, but nothing like that.” He sighs. “It’s been surreal.” Looking away, he searches for more ways to verbalize the strangeness of his emotions right now. “I don’t even know how to describe it.”

“Understandable,” she replies. “It makes me think about our choices. I can’t lie about that. Knowing you were lying on that operating table, I thought, ‘what did we do?’”

Neil turns back to her and smiles a little sadly but with affection. “There’s never been any blame about that. We both did what we needed to do. I’m just happy to still be here to move forward from my choices,” he adds.

“Me too.” The usually casual and stoic Audrey Lim has tears in her eyes as she takes his hand and squeezes. Neil is feeling a little misty himself as it all sinks in.

Looking for a distraction, he blinks away the moisture in his eyes and releases her hand. “How’s Marta? Everything go okay?”

Audrey perks up and wipes at her eyes as well. “She’s doing great. In and out. She’s talking and resting comfortably down the hall with her wife.” Laughing, she shakes her head. “You’re going to love this. I hit a bleed that Claire found and clamped off, but I had concerns about continuing without a transfusion kit and extra blood on hand. Then Claire runs off and comes back with a beer engine. Made the damn thing into a cell saver to pump Marta’s own blood back into her.”

Neil’s surprise quickly transforms to delight. As with most mentions of Claire these days, a tenderness that has nothing to do with his recent surgery spreads from his chest when he’s reminded of how special she is. He wasn’t even there for it, and it makes him think about what a joy it is to know her and work with her.

“That’s … wow.” He grins, imagining the exact expression she’d have in such a moment. The eagerness to find new ways to solve a problem for her patient, the excitement and triumph when she does just that; those bright eyes aimed at him, seeking his approval. If he’s being honest, it’s incredibly alluring.

Audrey chuckles. “And you say you don’t have favorites.” Neil’s dreamy smile falls from his face, which makes her laugh even harder. When her mirth subsides, her tone turns serious. “You owe her your life too. Given the lack of any clear symptoms, you could have powered through, and we wouldn’t have known about the internal bleeding until too late. We got lucky. She did all the right things, and we’re here talking because of it.”

He knows all of that to be true and then some. With all the confusing dangerous thoughts about her going on in his head and his heart, all the reservations about their friendship being a liability, it had saved him today. Maybe she’d have been just as insistent with anyone in the same situation. But he knows without a doubt that she’d done it for him because she cared, probably more than she should.

And if that care can pull him from the brink of death, it makes him think what else their affection for each other could accomplish.

“I’ll be sure to thank her, too,” Neil acknowledges, trying not to give too much of his inner turmoil away. Audrey knows him so well, and he doesn’t want to open up that can of worms right now, especially when he has no idea what he’s going to do about his feelings for Claire. “Where is she – and everybody – anyway? Is it still a madhouse downstairs?”

Audrey reaches into her pocket to pull out her phone and check messages, though she shrugs in response. “It’s still busy, though not as insane as it could have been. Most of the worst happened offsite. Park lost a patient in the field, an 18-year-old kid whose dad couldn’t get back in time to say goodbye. It really rattled him, so I told him to take a few days to go visit his son after things slow down here. Shaun got stuck in the debris looking for Lea and found another casualty. Had to cut off her leg old-school to get her out before the spot they were in flooded from a burst pipe. He’s okay, and I’m glad. But we’re going to have to have a tough talk about him breaking field protocols.” She sighs. “Not today, though. And Morgan almost permanently damaged her hands triaging while we were all out in the field. I didn’t get the full story, and I doubt I ever will, but I got the sense she’d been close to doing a solo surgery for an ectopic pregnancy. Thankfully Claire got back in time to take over.”

“Jesus. So, quiet night?”

Audrey nudges him gently in the arm. “Not all of us could take a long nap on an operating table in the middle of a disaster.”

He appreciates that she could joke with him like this. It makes the fact that he’d missed most of the action because he’d almost died not feel so heavy and so overwhelming. Although, what he doesn’t appreciate is her perhaps intentionally leaving out the person he most wants to hear about, making him ask and maybe reveal too much about his growing affections for his resident.

Despite the risk, he questions her about what he needs to know so he can fully relax. “Claire’s holding up okay?”

Audrey considers the question and the way he’s asked it, yet doesn’t give away anything in her expression.

“She’s good,” Audrey finally volunteers. “Exhausted like the rest of us. I’m going to have her go off shift for a while as soon as we can spare her. It’s been a hell of a night for her as well.” Noting his change in mood, she grins. “I’ll tell her you’re awake. I’m sure she’ll want to stop by. And I’ll be returning the favor. She did keep me updated on you when I was stuck at the brewery.”

Neil nods, resting his head heavily on the pillow, more in relief than fatigue.

“And on that note,” Audrey adds, “You should get some more rest. You still have a long road to recovery, but we don’t need to talk about that right now either.”

Although Neil isn’t sleepy, he is tired and rest sounds good. “Thank you for coming by. It’s nice to wake up to such a friendly face. Even if it’s yours,” he says with an impish grin.

“Smartass.” Audrey gets up and pulls his blanket more securely around him, almost as if she’s tucking him in. “I’ll pop in later.” Without any more pretense, she wanders out to get back to handling things as the chief.

After Audrey leaves, Neil does go to sleep for a while, but he wakes up suddenly, heart racing and in a sweat. Sucking in deep breaths, he tries to calm himself, shed the irrational fears that had gripped him a few hours ago when he thought he was going to die. He leans back into the pillows behind him, even breaths in and out.

Images linger of his dreams along with the tightness in his chest, the ache in his abdomen and in his throbbing head. What haunts him isn’t the aftermath of the earthquake, the debris and ruin all around him. It isn’t the sounds and images of the OR as the anesthesia consumed him and the sterile ceiling faded as potentially the last thing he’d see in this world.

In in mind, in his dreams is her. Claire.

It’s Claire lying next to him, smiling as her long hair spills across his shoulders. Her naked skin warm and smooth to his touch as he caresses her back and tangles his fingers in her hair. He’s kissing her, laughing with her, and holding her in his arms. The quiet of this memory fading contrasts the thrumming of his heart in the waking world.

A storm of anger washes over him. How many times does he have to fight his own urges over this?

The thing about working so closely with Claire is that he knows so many dangerous details that seem to automatically populate his imagination when he thinks of her. So often standing next to her in the OR, the scent of her shampoo and the slope of her lashes against her brow, has imprinted in his mind. Embedded are the little murmurs of exertion when she’s applying pressure to bone, the satisfied hum when she clamps a tricky bleed or finishes a delicate suture. There’s always an awareness of her as he whispers in her ear instructions or praise. Thousands of times he’s grazed her shoulder as they’ve maneuvered around a patient or brushed fingers as they’ve reached over each other to finesse a surgical technique.

He doesn’t want to think about the number of times he’s scolded himself for basking in her sweet smile, for recalling the times she’s focused that special brightness entirely on him. He pushes away the contentment of their evenings together on a run or dinner or some outing. All the times they leave work together, he tries to ignore the possibility that instead of parting ways with rote farewells, he could take her hand and invite her back to his place.

After a while, he wishes he could erase the memory of her unguarded affection when he tells her she deserves to be happy, of her shocked delight when he tricks her into falling behind on their run. Of dancing with her, chastely, his careful hand in hers and the curve of her waist in his. It’s these images that invade the silence as he lies awake at night in his empty house, knowing the tension it will stir in him.

Those moments of weakness either send him to a cold shower or fuel moments of powerful submission to desire, succumbing to his fantasies of impossible, illicit encounters.

He’s imagined taking her against the lockers in the changing room, tangling his fingers in her hair as he ravishes her for anyone walking in to see. Or maybe they’d surrender to each other in a radiology room where he’s come to enjoy sitting with her and chatting idly as they wait on scans. Except instead of sliding his chair over to evaluate some anomaly, he’d lock the door and coax her on the desk for an afternoon tryst, pressing her against the viewing window as he pleasures her. In his darker, more alcohol-fueled moments, he admits to himself that he wouldn’t mind a night of being used by Claire to make them both feel better.

These thoughts would lead him to a passionate release where her name would linger on his lips, an incantation to conjure her to him somehow. And then he wonders if Claire has succumbed to her own erotic submissions when thinking of him, and that sparks his craving for her once more.

Any sense of guilt or impropriety is appeased by the certainty that they’d be so good together. If the circumstances were different.

God, he could have died and all he can think about is how much he wants her. A useless desire for someone he has no business thinking about like this. Someone he cannot have.

The frustration of it, of this entire situation stirs up a burning fury that has nowhere to go, especially lying here in a hospital bed.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

_**Exclusively** _

Claire’s feet are killing her. And her back. Her eyes aren’t doing so hot either.

Lim ordered her to rest for a couple of hours, and even after a quick nap in the on-call room, she feels no more refreshed. She’d grabbed a banana and some yogurt before heading back to the ER to pick up the overflow. At least Park and Shaun have returned so they aren’t as short-handed as before. The both of them telling her about their respective patients at the brewery, and them hearing about Melendez, helped pass the time as they stitched and patched the steady flow of patients that came in.

Now that she has a little down time, she pops her head in on Neil to find him sleeping. His color is still off, and he looks rather terrible. But he’s alive and on the mend as far as everyone’s told her. She checks his chart anyway and monitors his vitals herself for a moment before leaving him to his slumber. She doesn’t want to risk waking him since rest is the best thing for him.

Instead Claire heads to the recovery section to visit another patient.

Morgan is lying in bed, her hands now freshly wrapped, and she's trying desperately to work the remote control without any free digits to hit the buttons. Claire giggles. It’s exactly the kind of distraction she needs right now.

“About time you showed up. Are you going to help or just stand there and laugh at me?” Morgan grouses, although Claire spots a small smile to go with it.

Claire walks over and plops down on the stool beside her bed. Grabbing the remote, she turns the TV on and lowers the volume. Then she opens the drawer next to the bed to retrieve a pen which should help Morgan more easily navigate the buttons without throwing a tantrum.

“How are you holding up?” Claire asks.

Morgan sighs dramatically, flopping her head back against the pillow. “So bored. And ready to get out of here. I can’t believe all the action happening out there, and I can’t get in on any more of it.”

“Trust me, you’re not missing much. It’s mostly cuts and bruises at this point, which is good given how busy the OR got early on. You really got the brunt of it. Shaun and Park are back and Glassman’s gone home to rest. I haven’t seen Andrews in a while, so I don’t know.”

“He’s still around,” Morgan reports. “We had a good talk. He was really pissed Glassman let me help in the ER. Maybe I did want to prove something to him, that I’m not some selfish egomaniac that lied to him about my condition. I couldn’t just sit here with everything going on.”

Claire smiles at Morgan. “I know. I would have felt the same way. We all would have, and Andrews knows that. Are things okay with him?”

Morgan shrugs. “I think so? And he says I should heal okay. My stitches are a little sad but intact. I’ll just need to be careful.”

“Do you need anything? I can bring you a smoothie from downstairs. That should be easy enough to hold.”

“Oh my god, yes!” Morgan gushes. “Now that things are back on track with Andrews, I’m going to have to work on the nurses. They are seriously mad at me.”

Claire laughs at that. “I heard! Since you gave them permission to call you a bitch at will, they are loving it.”

Morgan seems unbothered. “Hey, I gave them a good villain to distract them from their stress.”

Shaking her head, Claire continues to chuckle. “I cannot believe you, Morgan. You could have really messed up your hands. I’m glad things worked out, though.” She rolls her eyes. “Between you, Melendez, and Shaun it’s a shock we didn’t lose someone tonight. It’s so reckless.” She tries to drop that lightly, but she can’t quite hide the bitterness over the evening’s stress. Her weariness and short fuse are definitely showing.

Morgan scrutinizes her, and it makes Claire nervous. No one would accuse Morgan of being an expert in emotional intelligence, but she’s observant and smart. And Claire is too tired to play games with her tonight.

“I heard Park and Shaun are back in the ER, but how’s Melendez?” Morgan asks. No snark. No innuendo. Just a simple question. It surprises Claire. Morgan’s inquiry seems sincere, yet Claire’s not so exhausted that she doesn’t spot a potential setup.

“He’s recovering. Andrews said it was a close call.” She scoffs. “And it’s a total fluke too. Without the proof of that scan, there’s no way he would have gone back to the hospital to get checked out and would have probably died in the middle of all this,” she rants. “Such a hard-headed idiot.”

Thinking back on how everything went down and with Neil in recovery, Claire’s frustration has nowhere left to go. Maybe it’s knowing that he’ll be okay that allows her to unleash such anger over how flippantly he’d treated his injuries and what could have happened if they hadn’t discovered something serious completely through dumb luck. Did he not fully grasp that there were people in his life that care what happens to him? Or did he just not care?

It’s that latter question that echoes in her mind, has lingered ever since she’d admitted to herself that she’s falling for Neil.

Claire’s irritation seems to amuse Morgan. “Tell me how you really feel.” She senses Morgan’s eyes on her, probably logging every reaction. Claire feels more exposed than she’s comfortable with, but Morgan doesn’t press her.

“Well, it’ll be interesting to see what happens after all this. I think Park is going to leave, or at least that’s what he seemed to be considering when he dropped by earlier. Losing that patient really did a number on him. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“I know what you mean,” Claire agrees, happy to move the conversation away from her emotional turmoil over Neil. “I don’t know if he’ll leave. I mean we have only two years left and it would be so much harder on him to try and transfer now.”

“That’s true, but he’s not thinking about all that right now. I think it would be a mistake, but I get it.”

“Yeah. And apparently now Shaun and Lea are together. That makes me very nervous. It wasn’t even a week ago that they were being truly awful to each other.”

Morgan rolls her eyes. “You know how I feel about that. But Shaun is a grown man, and if he wants to make poor choices about who he dates, let him. What I want to know is how things are going to go with Carly. He kind of screwed her over.”

“Well, she’s a grown-up too. I do feel bad, because she’s really a sweet person, and she was good to Shaun. I hope it works out with Lea to make all the drama worth it. And I’d hate to see Shaun get his heart broken again.”

Chuckling, Morgan wrestles with her blanket until finally, Claire leans over and pulls it up for her. “I don’t want to see that side of Shaun again either. He’s kind of an asshole in that state.” Claire has to agree, but keeps quiet on the point. “You know it’s true,” Morgan goads her, grinning.

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that,” Claire smirks.

“This is why it’s not a good idea to date the people you work with. Now it’s going to be awkward with Carly.”

Claire shrugs. “Lim and Melendez seemed to do okay with it.”

“Yeah, they’re fine now, but they were so annoying when they fought.”

“You should have seen it when he’d fight with Jessica Preston before they broke off their engagement. Beyond awkward. Melendez and Lim had their moments, but they’ve mostly been pretty professional.”

Claire hadn’t paid much attention to Lim and Neil when they’d been together. She’d thought their relationship cute, and they had a long history so it made sense. Seeing the hopeless romantic side to Neil mostly amused her. She honestly hadn’t really noticed when they’d started having problems so consumed by her own. She and Neil talked about it a little during their runs, though not in detail. In that sense, they’d been a comfort to each other these past months as they mourned their individual complicated relationships.

Morgan seems to consider her argument. “I wonder if they’ll get back together. You know how it goes: near death experience reminds people of their mistakes and their opportunities for a second chance, et cetera and so on.”

Claire stiffens. She hasn’t considered that. But Morgan is right. She thinks back on how worried Lim had been and the exchange between the two before Neil was ordered back to the hospital. No matter what had happened over the past few months, a situation like this makes people reevaluate things.

She tries to be casual in her response, despite this new dread invading her already taxed emotional state. “Yeah, maybe. You never know.”

Claire’s therapist had been firm about her treading carefully with her feelings for Neil given her recent traumas. Yet she’d also acknowledged the likelihood that Neil is struggling with his own emotions toward her.

Hearing Morgan put things into this context has her second-guessing that.

What can she possibly be to Neil in comparison? What makes more sense, going back to a relationship with someone you’ve known for years, loved deeply, and had imagined a future together if you could have navigated your professional boundaries? Or a fleeting sexual curiosity with someone off limits who can ruin your career? Someone who people have already started gossiping about in disapproval?

He’d said to her that if she’d found the right guy in Dash, she shouldn’t wait for the right time to deepen their relationship. If he truly believed that notion and had any romantic feelings for her, surely, he wouldn’t have been pushing her toward someone else. And maybe it’s just the mantra he’ll need to reignite things with Lim.

Claire slumps even deeper on the stool. She’s so tired of all this. The plan had been to shove down her feelings for Neil so as not to make things complicated, do what she could to maintain their friendship. She doesn’t want to be the one to make things awkward. Or maybe she should just be honest with him about what she’s struggling with and then back off to let him distance himself and move on.

Rubbing at the crown of her head, she feels a headache coming on. She glances up and sees Morgan again scrutinizing her, and it’s unnerving.

“Uh, I’m going to go get that smoothie before someone pages me and then you’re on your own with the nurses.”

Morgan groans. She picks up the pen with her damaged hands and starts poking at the remote dials. “I’ll be here. Nothing better to do.” She stabs at a couple of buttons and brightens when the channel changes. The sight brings some welcome amusement to Claire.

“Be back in a few.”

Claire gets up and wanders out of the room to walk aimlessly down to the café. Checking her phone, she’s relieved to see no pages, but knows she should get back to the ER sooner rather than later.

And maybe that’ll give her the time to figure out what’s she’s going to say to Neil when he wakes up.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I can get one more chapter up tonight! Fingers crossed.


	6. Chapter 6

_**I Think It's Better** _

Neil’s episode of anger-filled, desire-fueled anxiety ends up lulling him back into an exhausted sleep.

When he wakes, there are the usual stream of nurses coming and going, taking a little special care with one of their own. He stays awake long enough to tease the usually stern Nurse Petringa about her withholding pain meds out of revenge for the annoying fraternity brothers he’d dumped on her a few weeks before. When Nurse Hawks comes through, it’s with an automatic refill on his ice chips since it’ll be a long time before he’s allowed real food.

Aaron comes by and they reminisce about patients and talk baseball for a bit. Somehow he gets caught in a bet with his former Attending involving a $500 bottle of scotch and less than favorable odds on having to pay up at the end of the season. His old mentor even finds himself misty-eyed praising Neil as if he _had_ died on the operating table.

_‘Take it from a guy who was on death’s door a year ago, we shouldn’t wait until the last minute to tell people what they mean to us.’_

When the anesthesia and general exhaustion of surgery finally wear off, the discomfort – and even worse, the boredom – set in. He realizes everyone around is busy, but he’s starving for real human interaction. So, when Noreen pokes her head in to see how he’s doing while Marta is out for imaging and testing, he welcomes the company. They chat amiably, and the time seems to fly by.

“When you two get things back up and running, I will be the first in line to come back,” he tells her.

“I hope others feel the same way,” Noreen replies. “We have insurance and probably a pretty good lawsuit over the earthquake safety structures that failed, but it’s still a big blow. And it’ll take us even longer to bounce back with Marta recovering from her injury.”

“It sounds like things went well with the surgery. So as long as she takes it slow, she should be back on her feet in good time.” He grins over at her, looking more refreshed now that she’s clean and dressed casually. Though, he still picks up on her weariness over the scare she’d received from the lover she’d fought so hard to be with. “I’m really happy we could be there for the two of you.”

Noreen smiles warmly. “It was a test for sure. But it’s made me appreciate Marta and what we have on a whole new level. That we could get through this is a testament to us getting through anything. And Dr. Lim and Dr. Browne were wonderful.”

“They are a good team,” Neil agrees. “And there are worse things in life than getting booted off a surgery by my ex.” He laughs gently so as not to strain his sensitive abdominal area.

“Dr. Lim?” Noreen asks, shocked. Neil nods, and she appears to consider this new information. “I guess I see it, though I didn’t pick up on it at the time.”

Neil pretends to be offended. “Well, we _are_ professionals.”

Pausing, Noreen shoots him a sly look. “You and Dr. Browne were a good team too.” Catching her insinuation, Neil rolls his eyes, but allows a grin to pull at his lips. "There's 'professional' and then there's whatever is going on with the two of you."

“There's nothing going on with the two of us. She’s a talented doctor and a friend. One of the best residents I’ve ever had."

“And is that all she is to you?” His expression is incredulous, but mostly it makes him nervous. Is he that easy to read now? “I have eyes, and I wasn’t so distracted that I didn’t notice certain things happening in front of my face. The two of you clearly have a rapport.”

“I’m her boss.”

“And she’s a beautiful, talented woman who you think very highly of and vice versa. It says a lot for you to tell Marta and I that there’s no one you trust more.”

Neil sighs. Noreen doesn’t know anything about his and Claire’s history and after today – and what would likely be his own long recovery – maybe he wouldn’t see her again until the reopening of the brewery. Given her own experiences, she doesn’t seem like the kind of person to gossip.

Or at least that’s what he tells himself in not denying the truth of her words.

“It’s … very complicated, my ‘rapport’ with Dr. Browne. Claire. It doesn’t matter how either of us may or may not feel. There are rules and reputations to think of.”

“Dr. Melendez, you could have died,” she says soberly. “You’ll have to think about whether that changes things. You know about how Marta and I got together and heard our story. We spent years hiding behind fear. Even when we knew what we felt for each other, we told ourselves it wasn’t real enough to justify the risks and the things we’d lose. And we did lose so much. Family. Community. Gone because of the few words acknowledging our truth. And we have to live with knowing we didn’t matter enough to some people to get past their judgement. And I do not regret anything, not for one moment because I get to spend the rest of my life with the person who makes me happier than I ever thought I deserved.”

Neil’s chest tightens at hearing that, an echo of the thoughts he’s had about Claire’s happiness and the longing he tries to deny of wanting to be the one to brighten her life.

“I don’t doubt there are concerns. Ones that could change everything,” Noreen continues. “But if she makes you genuinely happy, there’s nothing stopping you from being the brave one and starting a different kind of your own adventure.”

They lock gazes, taking in the seriousness of their own experiences with death tonight, each from the other side of the spectrum. He’s been spending so long and so much energy pushing his feelings away. To have them stoked, to let them float free feels more terrifying than liberating.

Neil looks away, laughing lightly at Noreen’s advice. It again makes him think of his own words to Claire a few weeks ago as he’d pushed her toward Dash to keep her out of reach of his growing attraction to her.

“You make it sound easy.”

“Well, I can definitely tell you it won’t be easy,” she chuckles. “But it’ll be worth it.” He turns his head to her, again hearing his own words coming back to him. “And I don’t need to tell you that she is something else. Did you hear what she did during surgery with our beer engine?”

Laughing, Neil nods. “I heard! Dr. Lim told me. I wish I had been there to see it.”

“I’m so thankful she was there,” Noreen says in awe. “It was incredible.”

Neil smiles at that, unable to hide his pride and affection at hearing how amazing Claire is. “There’s one thing I do know for sure,” he tells Noreen, an earnestness to his words that feel important. “You spend enough time with Dr. Browne, and you get used to incredible.”

Noreen flashes him a knowing look, but they both turn at hearing footsteps coming into the room.

Claire. Just the person he’s been wanting to see since he’d woken up confused and in pain.

She’s standing right in front of him looking every bit as exhausted as Audrey warned him about. Yet, she's also the most exquisite, welcome sight for his sorry state of being. And then she lays bare this euphoric expression of happiness at seeing him alive and well. It wouldn't surprise him if her regard alone is enough to heal what's broken in him.

They share this private exchange, each feeling some unrealized missing piece of themselves finally falling into place as they take each other in. His heart speeds up, and he wonders if she can see it on the monitor next to him. A part of him hopes she notices what she does to him.

Then her gaze shifts to the woman next to him. “Noreen, I thought you’d be in here. Marta’s back in her room. We’ve got all we need so you’re welcome to sit with her again until visiting hours are over.” She turns to Neil for a moment then back to Noreen. “But when I walk in and hear the words ‘Dr. Browne’ and ‘incredible,’ I obviously want to hear more.”

Neil laughs nervously, wondering if she’d heard any other parts of their conversation. Noreen rolls her eyes and stands. “I think he’s a little put out that he wasn’t there to see your trick with the beer engine.”

Claire’s eyes brighten so brilliantly as she grins at Noreen. “Given the circumstances, I’m a little put out too.” She turns her attention back to Neil and gazes fully at him, demanding he hold her eyes. “I’m just really happy he’s okay, so I’ll let it go this time.”

Neither notices Noreen’s emotional expression as she watches the two of them dance playfully around each other. If she hadn’t been convinced before of something going on between them, she’s certain now.

Walking towards the door, she squeezes Claire’s shoulder as she passes and then reaches down to do the same with Neil’s arm. “Be well, you two.” And then she’s gone.

Now alone with each other, Neil and Claire are silent, immobilized by whatever this is simmering beneath the surface.

Things had been not exactly awkward so much as intense between them the last week or so – since that night after Shaun had spent a couple of days lashing out at them followed by a tough surgery. In a moment of weakness, he’d revealed a bit too much to her, wanting her to know that she mattered in the midst of her own doubt.

That she makes him a better surgeon isn’t new. It’s part of why he thinks she’s special. That she makes him a better person snuck up on him, embedded itself inside him and would not be moved. It should have bothered him that night to be so exposed, but it felt nice to give voice to his feelings. His words, though, felt like a precursor to some kind of declaration. An unspoken proposition that he shouldn’t have been making.

And he suspects she picked up on it too, that it spooked her. It's the last thing he'd meant to do, but he'd been careless.

As their silent exchange lingers, Claire’s grin widens. “How are you holding up?” She steps in closer to him, looks at the side of his bed and then opts for the chair that Noreen vacated. He’s disappointed, but knows it’s the safer option.

“I feel lousy, but grateful for it. And so bored.”

She laughs, a tinkling delight to his ears. “Well, you definitely look better than the last time I saw you after the surgery. It was kind of scary.” Her tone tries at humor, but there’s a sadness as she looks away. “More so for you, I imagine.” Her smile is weak but genuine when she returns her attention to him. Her scrubs are wrinkled and her hair neat but definitely distressed. Noticing the redness to her eyes, he wonders if Audrey’s had a chance to take her off rotation for a rest.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he says. She waves her hand to dismiss the sentiment. “No, really. I know you’ve lost a lot lately. I’d hate to be one more thing making your life more difficult than it needs to be.”

Saying the words sounds weighty. After the conversation with Noreen, he doesn’t know if he means the impact his brush with death would have on her or the consequences of him burdening her with his attraction, even if just her sitting next to him – looking like hell, frankly – makes his heart sing.

She grins sweetly at him, having no idea of the turmoil going on inside his head. “Then good job not dying. I appreciate that,” she jokes. “And if you were scared,” she adds, “you don’t have to tell me.”

Neil chuckles. “I don’t think I even had much time to be scared. As soon as I came back and Andrews practically threw me into the CT, it was one thing after another until surgery. I didn’t really have the space to process.”

When he glances back at Claire, she remains silent, but he can tell she isn’t quite buying it. She raises a brow at him, a challenge for him to be honest with her, though not a demand.

“Okay, maybe there was a little time in there when things got a bit … intense.” Claire nods, seeming satisfied with his response. “It’s funny, I was lying in here waiting for Andrews to line everything up for the surgery. It couldn’t have been more than five or ten minutes. But my mind kept wandering to these random memories.”

Claire leans her head to the side, curious. “Like what? I mean, if you don’t mind sharing,” she says shyly.

Neil hesitates, wondering how much he should reveal. Of course, he feels completely comfortable talking to her like this, but he still doesn’t know if it’s fair to either of them to keep up this all too comfortable intimacy. Yet she’s here and seems to genuinely want to know what’s he’s gone through. And he could use some perspective in sorting it all out. These days, no one is better at helping him with that than her.

“I kept thinking about the six months I took off the year before med school, backpacking across Southeast Asia. Hostels were three bucks a night. Beer was fifty cents. I found this little island in Thailand. Ko Lanta. Nothing but bamboo huts and palm trees. I stayed eight days. Read Moby Dick. Fell in love.”

With such deep fondness he recalled those blissful days. He had always thought he’d get back there, maybe once he’d gotten married but before having kids. That pipe dream seems so far away. He feels older and lonelier than ever. Couldn’t make any of his relationships work. Falling for someone he can’t have. Facing near death, it all hit him with a terrible emotional force. Even sitting here now on the other side of it, it feels like he’ll never get the things he wants most.

“The place is probably overrun with tourists now,” he says a little bitterly.

If Claire picks up on the dark turn to his thoughts, she doesn’t say. In fact, she seems a little introspective at hearing his description, but she perks up after a few moments. “Did anything come to mind that brought you comfort? I’m sure it was difficult being here by yourself.”

The question surprises him, though it shouldn’t have coming from Claire. She’s always searching for the lesson, the silver lining. 

He looks down and then back over to her. “I’m not afraid to die. I was raised a good Catholic. Alter boy. First Communion. Faithfully wore my silver crucifix Tia Abebe gave me for Confirmation.” Thinking back on those simpler days makes him smile. “I was a true believer. And then I went to college. And maybe it’s just now when I’ve stared into the yawning void and hedging my bet, but, it came back to me. Like an old friend with a warm hug.”

It feels good to admit this growing peace he's been slowly accepting in between being poked and prodded or tying himself in knots over his mortality and his future and his unexplored affection for a resident. It's the only thing right now that feels certain and undemanding. Claire is right to remind him of this comfort.

When he glances at her, curious about her reaction to what he's shared, he finds her leaning forward, hanging off his every word. Maybe she's thinking about her own relationship with God, the details of which Morgan coaxed out of her during surgery a while back.

Her eyes are misty and soft, her shoulders weary. She turns to face him more fully, and he can practically feel the rapidly rising tension in her body. Her lips quiver as she struggles with her own unsettled emotions, and it seems as if she wants to say something but can’t find the words.

Now clenching the blanket resting in his lap, he can tell she's recognized on some level that invisible part of him that's reaching for her. He can feel her reaching back, wanting to be another kind of comfort to him, too.

And he can’t bring himself to let her.

It would change everything for them too quickly. And he knew himself well enough to realize he wouldn’t be able to let go of her. Noreen is right but so wrong. Being brave isn’t an adventure. It’s a death knell for her career here and possibly his too. She’s too talented, has worked too hard for him to derail all her efforts because he’s foolishly let himself fall in love with her. Pushing her toward Dash had been the right call, he’s sure of it now.

Gathering her thoughts, Claire looks up at him with a probing, determined stare. “I want you to know that I—”

“Don’t,” he says, getting his emotions back under control.

She’s taken aback as if he’s struck her. It tears at his heart to see her reacting to him in this way. But it _has_ to be this way.

“You should go. This place still has a crisis going on, and Lim said she needed to take you off-shift for a while once it’s calmed down.”

Still stunned, Claire glances at him before looking away quickly, tears forming and her expressive face trying to hide her hurt. Neil closes his eyes to the pain he’s caused her, regretting it already. When he re-opens them, she’s now standing, smoothing out her scrubs and hovering; reluctant to leave his side. “Don’t wear yourself out,” he tells her, hoping it’s enough to take the sting from his earlier words. “Eat something. Get some rest.”

Claire tries – and fails – to offer a tight smile. She nods and looks to him one last time.

“Goodbye, Claire,” he says, his own weariness showing.

Barely looking at him before diverting her gaze at anything other than his face, Claire turns to leave. “Goodbye.” And she walks out of the room, a furtive swipe across her cheek as she disappears from view. It leaves him to his own dark thoughts.

Even though he thinks he’s doing the right thing, he feels worse than ever.

She doesn’t come back for the rest of the afternoon, and he knows it’s probably for the best, no matter if he craves her company more than ever now that he knows he can’t have it.

The nurses come in and continue to dote on him in a way that’s annoying but sweet. Morgan comes by for a while, clearly as bored as he is. But that visit gets cut short when he has to go out for more tests. When he returns to his room, he’s exhausted, but he’s got at least one more check-in with Andrews before he can sleep for any extended period of time. He reaches over to the bedside table for the TV remote when he notices the items blocking the way.

Sitting in a pile are two of his crossword books, the ones he grabs when he knows he’ll be waiting a while for a patient to wake up after surgery or for a long session of imaging and scans. There is also a pen and a pencil sitting beside it, both from his office. There’s a regular book there too, though he can't see the cover. And on top of the books is an envelope with his name on it in nondescript block letters. Curious, he reaches for it, noticing something small moving around inside. He looks back at the pile to see if there’s any kind of note, but there’s nothing there. Now that he sees the cover on the top book, he can just make out the title: Moby Dick.

When he opens the envelope, it confirms for him who it’s from.

Inside is a small silver crucifix on a chain, probably from the hospital gift shop downstairs. He pours the contents out into his palm, grinning like a lovesick idiot and cradling it in his hand, a powerful surge of affection at her gesture. He's almost died on her, given her all sorts of mixed signals and then made her cry yet she goes and does this.

How could one person be this wonderful? Despite all he’s done today to redirect his feelings for Claire, to push her away and refuse to speak of the gnawing need for her in his heart, he realizes it won’t be easy.

He’s hopelessly in love with her. And he needs to figure out what he’s going to do about it.


	7. Chapter 7

_**One Is the Magic Number** _

A week has gone by since the night of the earthquake. That passage of time feels surreal.

After being on duty for over 36 hours, Claire finally crawled home, showered, ate a ridiculously carb-heavy meal with a tall beer, and slept from early evening until the next morning. When she woke for her shift, she’d felt better physically, though that was about the only comfort the rest had brought her.

Emotionally, she felt awful. Neil had seemed so happy to see her when she’d interrupted his conversation with Noreen. They’d joked around a little, fell into that comfortable pattern of banter that had been missing recently. She’d listened as he shared his fears and his comforts with her. He’d shown her a little more of who he is, and she’d gotten caught up in him, in the notion that maybe it was safe to tell him the truth: that he couldn’t almost die on her and not hear how she’d come to love him.

When he’d spotted her confession for what it was, he’d cut her off at the knees.

She feels exposed and humiliated. Dismissed. At least she has an answer to dealing with her feelings for him going forward. She has to get over him.

It doesn’t change her relief that he’s survived his ordeal. Although it makes her feel a bit pathetic, she still has a desire to comfort him, even if only as a colleague. As complicated as her emotions are, she’s mostly scared to lose his friendship and will settle for being thankful to see him healthy and alive and in her life in some way.

Neil had once told her that ‘we are who we are.’ And if he’s to reject her because he’s too honorable and practical a guy to let a bit of chemistry torpedo both their careers then so be it.

So, she’d returned to his room when she knew he was out for scans and left him some crosswords to pass the time, a book, and the crucifix. After all, it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t return her feelings or at least wanted to stave off any potentially improper behavior between them. And she couldn’t blame him. She’s the one that told him things wouldn’t get weird and that she’d just wanted a mentor, nothing more. And like a simpering teenager, she’d fallen for him and made everything awkward and inappropriate like everyone had feared. The only person she could be been angry with is herself for crossing the line so openly.

Neil had stayed in the hospital for a few days under observation before being released to recover back at home. Dr. Lim had reported updates to the team, confirming that she’d settled him in herself, and he was grumpy but recovering well. Claire tried not to dwell on Morgan’s prediction and how close Neil and Lim might be getting in the aftermath of his brush with death.

And what Lim didn’t volunteer was exactly what this medical leave meant for the four residents with Neil out for who knows how long.

After such an intense desire to see him that night to ease her worry, their last encounter mostly fills her with dread at the idea of crossing paths. At least with his injury, she won’t actually have to interact with him for a while, and maybe by then it’ll have blown over.

Claire hadn’t gone to see Neil the few days he’d stayed in the hospital, citing a busy schedule. It wasn’t even an excuse. Andrews had stepped in as their primary Attending and Glassman was on loan from the clinic. With Morgan on admin duty until she healed, Park out visiting his family, and still a lot of admissions from the earthquake, Claire and Shaun were busier than ever. Neil had texted her a curt but sincere ‘thank you’ for the items she’d dropped off. She’d sent a plain, neutral smiley face emoji in response, holding back a bit of bitterness at the gesture.

That’s classic Claire Browne. She puts on a happy face even when she’s falling apart inside.

Despite how difficult it often felt, she’d forced herself not to ignore him. They’d pepper each other with messages throughout the day, probably more a sign of his boredom than anything. He’d ask about her surgeries, she’d seek his input so he’d feel useful. The distance seemed safe, and Claire thought at least they could work on things getting back to normal between them this way. She’s grateful he’s willing to move on and still be friendly.

The one time she’d worked up the nerve to simply stop in for a moment and say hello, he’d been out for tests. One of the crossword books she’d left for him was missing so she assumed he’d taken it with him. A makeshift bookmark indicated he’d made good headway into Moby Dick. Feeling relieved that they’d missed each other, she’d left him a note about minding his jailers and another smiley face.

Once he’s discharged, their texts become less frequent. She considered asking if he needed anything that she could drop off, then thought better of it. And the messages she received from him seemed to indicate he was doing fine. His long road to recovery seems to be weighing on him, and she wants to be there for him, even if just as a friend and colleague. But she lost the right when she crossed a line and he’d sent her away. Reaching out would only result in more rejection.

At this point, she has no idea when any of them will even see him next.

Now Claire sits in the lounge with Park and Shaun after another brutal day. They’re waiting to hear from Andrews about whether they’re doing a procedure on an obstinate patient tonight or bumping it to the morning’s schedule. It feels weird being next to Neil’s empty office just going about their day. The room is too quiet without Morgan. Their team seems even more uncertain with Park mulling over a transfer to be closer to his family. The only certainty is that nothing will ever be the same after the earthquake.

“Things feel weird, right?” Park leans back in his chair and swings it gently as he asks. Shaun sends a furtive glance toward him and Park halts the swinging.

Claire nods. “I was just thinking the same thing. It’s like we’re in some strange limbo. Morgan’s not here, no one’s saying anything about Melendez. It’s unsettling.”

Silence settles at the table again. Shaun is reviewing an article on a surgical procedure he’d be doing the next day. Park is texting on his phone, and Claire is updating her last remaining patient charts since there’s nothing better to do while they wait.

“Things are not weird with me,” Shaun offers abruptly. “Lea and I have spent the last three evenings together, and I think she wants to go on a road trip this weekend. We’ve always liked those.”

Claire and Park look at each other, not sure how to respond.

“Uh, that’s great, Shaun,” Claire says as neutral as possible. “I’m glad things are working out.” She glances again at Park and returns to her notes.

“They are working out. It was bad for a while,” Shaun confirms. “We’ve talked a lot, and I think things happened the way they were supposed to.”

Claire scoffs. “Tell that to Carly,” she mutters. Park and Shaun swing their heads around toward her at the comment, Park in amusement and Shaun with a growing anxiety. Claire sighs. “Sorry, Shaun. That was unfair. It’s none of my business.”

“Now I know things are weird when you’re saying something’s none of your business,” Park jokes. Claire glares at him, but with humor.

“Carly broke up with me,” Shaun says. “And if Lea and I are together, it makes her decision the right one. I think she’d agree.”

Claire bites her tongue and turns back to her computer. She isn’t going to take her edginess out on him. “I’m sure you’re right, Shaun.”

Park puts his phone down and turns to Shaun. “Claire’s right, though. I’m glad you’re happy and that things worked out. We both are. But you shouldn’t forget that someone got hurt in the middle of all this to get you to that happiness.” Park did know a thing or two about complicated romantic relationships.

Shaun considers Park’s explanation. “I haven’t forgotten.” Park nods. “There’s just nothing I can do about it.”

“That’s true,” Claire agrees. “But it’s good to acknowledge the important things that got you to this point with Lea. Carly is a nice person. I know you think so too. And even though it’s no one’s fault, she got hurt so you could be happy.”

“I know. She _is_ a nice person. There are things I miss about her sometimes. Do you like Carly more than Lea?” Shaun asks.

“Honestly, I don’t know much about Lea except for the ups and downs I hear from you. And I don’t want _you_ to get hurt again.” She grins at him. “It made you kind of a jerk, so it’s self-preservation.” Shaun seems to relax at hearing her humor, and Claire’s glad. She doesn’t mean to come down so harshly.

“And you should be careful because when you get even deeper into the kind of relationship you and Lea have, you can get hurt again badly,” Park adds.

Shaun turned to Park. “Didn’t you forgive your wife for hurting you?”

Looking a little sheepish at the question, Park blushes a bit. “You’re right, I did. And that’s why I’m telling you to be careful. It’s not as easy as it sounds. And I’m terrified all the time. It’s worth it for me. Just be sure is all I’m saying.” Shaun nods.

“How do you know if you’re sure?”

Park and Claire exchange looks. “I guess, you look at the worst that can happen and the best that can happen and see if the balance of things weighs out in your favor.”

Claire picks up on that thought. “And being sure doesn’t mean that you know how things will go. It’s about being sure you’re ready for the journey. There will be things that happen that suck and are hard. There will be things you don’t anticipate. You’ll make choices that some people might not agree with, that maybe you’ll have to compromise on yourself. But there’s a bravery and courage to accepting all of that and knowing you’ll have someone who you love doing all of those things with you and making the adventure all the more worth it. It sounds like that’s what you feel with Lea."

Claire looks away, a dull ache in her chest at the idea of falling in love with someone who loves you back. It’s something that’s eluded her, that she sometimes wonders if she’ll ever have or if she deserves. Her mind flashes to Neil, and the ache becomes a sharp pain at what she can’t have.

And yes, she’s bitter. And sad. And it hurts to sit here with friends who seem to get their happy ending when she’s yet again left to suffer. She’d let herself believe Neil when he’d told her that she deserved to be happy, and for a flash that she thought that maybe she deserved to be happy with him.

Anger is there too, along with the urge to go scorched earth and disavow their friendship, distance herself to being a mere colleague to him. It sounds like what he’d prefer anyway, and is probably grateful for the time away to figure out how to tell her that. She wants to be one of those women who can shrug and move on. But she’s not that kind of person and they’d never been mere colleagues, not even in the beginning when they were sparring and getting to know each other. Cutting Neil out of her life would be destructive and would hurt her personally and professionally.

She doesn’t _need_ Neil, she only wants him. So much. But she can get through this. She can survive anything.

It seems like a lifetime ago when she’d given that advice to Shaun about why it’s worth it to pursue love. Neil had helped her when she’d needed it and refused to give up on her when she’d felt unlovable and deserving of the suffering she’d endured. But a romantic journey together was too much to ask of him.

Across the table, Park and Shaun notice her shift in mood, her eyes distant and a touch misty. Park looks concerned, but Claire shakes it off, strained smile hoping to assure them.

“I guess that’s how you feel about Dash now that you’re dating.” Shaun says. “And he probably felt that way about your friend that died.”

Claire hadn’t been expecting _that_ comment. Strangely, it makes her laugh.

“No, Dash and I like being just friends. We’re kind of on the other side of that calculation. It’s fine though. We talked it out before anyone got hurt.”

Park looks as if he’s going to say something to her, but then Andrews walks in briefcase in hand. “I guess the procedure is off?” Park says instead.

“It is. I got consent, but it’s too much trouble dealing with the staffing needed to proceed tonight and the patient’s vitals look good. He’ll be fine overnight and we’ll do the procedure first thing in the morning. Go home, get some rest.” He nods at them and turns back around to head home.

Park and Shaun pack up, piling their reference materials to one side and closing down their tablets. Claire opens her laptop to check her charts. “You guys go ahead. I only have five more charts to look over.”

“You sure?” Park asks. Grabbing a stack of items to take with him.

“Yeah, I won’t be long. See you tomorrow.” Park smiles at her and heads toward the door, Shaun in tow.

Shaun stops before making the turn into the hallway. “Thank you for being happy for me and Lea. You give very good advice.” He then trails behind Park towards the elevators.

Claire watches them leave and then sinks heavily into her chair. Maybe one day she’ll have her life in order. But that day is clearly not today. She glances at the time on her watch and returns to her work.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is on the longer side because I couldn't find a good splitting point. I think it works best as a whole anyway. Just a warning to settle in for this long read.

_**A Long Walk** _

Neil walks slowly from Audrey’s office feeling especially weary – and today it has little to do with his injuries.

The last of the day shift is departing, and most of the offices in the surgical wing are dark. He, Audrey, and Glassman had agreed to meet on the later side. It’s when Audrey and Glassman had time available in their busy schedules, but also it’s so Neil can avoid prying eyes and well-meaning conversations with staff that would wear him out.

And they’d had a lot to discuss, namely, his future. They’d been going back and forth about it all week with Audrey encouraging him to think about his options and come back to them with realistic expectations for what he wants going forward.

He’s had too many quiet hours at home to think about it, in fact.

Audrey’s input had been helpful when they’d talked it over at dinner the other night. He’d visited his sister and ran errands. Mostly he rested combined with bouts of cleaning or tackling some DIY project he’d been meaning to do. There are a lot of question marks about his future as a surgeon and it frightens him. The almost constant isolation makes it hard to clear his head or distract himself from the difficult decisions he needs to make. 

He knows it’s not healthy, but he wishes he could talk to Claire. Unfortunately, he hasn’t laid eyes on her in almost a week.

They’ve texted back and forth a bit. Nothing overly friendly. He feels terrible about how things had gone the last time they’d sat together in-person, though he can’t quite find the words to bring it up to her. He’d been exhausted, scared, and rightfully concerned about the consequences of giving in to his feelings for her. Too many voices were pushing him toward the most daunting thing he could do in his life – tell Claire how he feels and hope for some kind of chance to be happy. The worst part is he can tell she feels something for him too. Yet he’s the one that backed off.

He’s such an idiot.

And the conversation he’s just had with Audrey and Glassman is an important part of the conversation he should have with Claire. Now he just needs to figure out how to get her alone so they can talk – really talk without prying eyes or awkwardness. After how he’s treated her, he doesn’t blame her for wanting to keep her distance.

Neil heads to the elevator to make the short drive home, then remembers there are a few things in his office he’d like to pick up before he leaves. He’s just about to divert his path down that hallway when he sees Park and Shaun heading for the elevator themselves, probably on their way home.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Park says, grinning, reaching out to shake Neil’s hand and pat him on the arm. Next to him, Shaun looks pleased to see him as well, in his own way.

“Dragged is right,” Neil replies. “Word to the wise, don’t ever get hit with a beam during an earthquake and have reconstructive surgery on your gut. It’s not worth the days off.”

“Park laughs. “What are you doing around here? Hoping to pick up a late-night surgery?”

“Oh, I think I’ve had enough surgery for the week. Just checking in with Lim and Glassman about my schedule. Looks like you’re going to have to do without for a little while longer.”

“Well, you’re missed,” Park assures him.

“It’s not the same without you breathing down our necks,” Shaun offers. Neil grins at his joke, glad for the warm reception from his team.

“You headed out?” Park asks, hitting the down button.

“I was, but I need to pick up a few things from my office.”

“Oh, good. Claire’s still in the lounge finishing up charts if you want to say hi.” Park smiles a little too innocently and backs into the elevator, pulling at Murphy’s sleeve. “Don’t be a stranger.” Shaun waves and follows Park into the elevator.

Neil shakes his head not knowing what to make of those two. But he appreciates the warning. If he’s going to run into Claire tonight, it helps to have a moment to collect himself.

Stalling in the hallway, he checks the time and it’s enough for a decent idea to form. Now all he needs is for Claire to play along.

He heads to his office, noticing the light on in the distance. As he gets closer, he sees Claire in profile, settled in one of the chairs in the lounge. She has her laptop nestled into her and a stack of casefiles on the table in front of her. Periodically, her graceful fingers fly across the computer keys in short spurts. Her hair is down today, braided away from her face as usual with a little bun on top. A few stray strands have escaped and she’s pushed them behind her ear. The conference table is piled with reference materials neatly stacked on one end, and he spots her doctor’s coat thrown over the back of a chair. As on many other occasions when he’s discovered her toiling away in the lounge alone, she’s reclined in the seating area as she unwinds in her bright sleeveless blouse, bronzed arms on display.

Slowing down, he silently watches her during his approach, wondering what kind of reception he’ll receive form her. Only one way to find out.

The lights are dim in the boardroom next to hers and in his office of course, so she doesn’t notice him until he’s opening the door. She looks up with a tiny smile on her lips, probably thinking it’s Park or Shaun having forgotten something. When she registers his presence, her smile fades and her eyes go wide, as if she doesn’t quite believe he’s standing there in front of her. He walks in and lets the door shut behind him before leaning casually against the frame, gazing at her with a friendly smile. There’s an excitement to being in her presence again, and he simply enjoys taking her in. 

And then her face brightens into this shining, joyful eruption of delight that he wants to seize and hold onto forever.

“It’s good to see you up and around,” she says finally, looking him over. Her eyes drop to the crucifix he’s wearing, that he never takes off now, for the reminder of his good fortune and his faith and a reminder of her generosity. He thinks she’s going to get up and hug him, which he would very much welcome, but she checks herself and settles back into her chair.

He walks over to prop himself against the side of the couch, not too enthused about folding himself into a seated position just yet. “I am both up and around,” he says, grinning. “A little slower than usual, but feeling okay.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she says. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I had to grab a few things from my office.” She frowns, maybe wondering why he’d make a special trip for that when Audrey could just deliver whatever he needs to him. “And I had a meeting with Lim and Glassman. You know about my ‘future,’” he emphasizes in air quotes.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

Neil thinks about the answer to that. It kind of depends, and it seems too early to say. How could he best explain all that to her?

“You know, I think you’re going to be outrunning me for a while. I’m not quite up for our usual pace, but would you consider taking a walk with me? I can tell you all about it.”

A tension in Claire eases. She considers the request, considers him. And then she nods silently, with a slight smile

Something eases within him too, and he returns her grin.

“I, uh, I just have a few charts to finish,” she says, stammering adorably, a little nervous it seems.

“That’s perfect. I need to grab a few things and take them to my car. Meet you out front in ten minutes?”

She looks at the pile in front of her, doing the mental calculations of how long it’ll take. “Make it fifteen? I still need to stop by my locker.”

“Fifteen is great. I was probably being too ambitious with ten anyway.” This makes her laugh, and his heartrate speeds up slightly to hear that familiar sound.

He wanders into his office, and goes through his drawers, grabbing his spare keys, his laptop and a few files to take care of some administrative work at home. He doesn’t bother to alert Claire when he leaves through his office door. She’s intently getting through her charts, and he’ll see her soon enough.

Fifteen minutes later, he watches her emerge from the front of the building right on time. She’s now wearing a jacket with her purse draped across her body. They automatically head in the direction of their regular running route. He remains silent for a while, not yet ready to disrupt a return to their pleasant company after the last tense encounter. And it’s nice to have the space to gather his thoughts. Claire has her hands in her pocket, seemingly content to stroll beside him until he’s ready to talk.

They pass the food trucks by the hospital, busy with customers as people enjoy the mild weather out. He notices all the construction and repair going on in the aftermath of the earthquake’s damage. Claire makes a cursory comment about how the city’s closed off a few blocks two streets over, so now she has to circle the hospital to get to the parking garage. 

Many aspects of his life are about to change for him, and he’s hoping that her comfortable companionship isn’t one of them.

“I talked with Lim and Glassman for a while tonight – all week really – about my medical leave and what’s next for me,” he says finally. “I think we all agreed that I’m going to be out for a while. Getting on the surgery schedule before I’m fully healed is out of the question. There’s not much for me to do at the hospital if not that. Or rather, not much that I want to do.”

Claire nods, expression unreadable.

“So, I’m taking a sabbatical, probably for a few months, but maybe longer. I haven’t decided.” Claire slows next to him, in a bit of shock judging by her slack jaw and wide eyes. “I’m coming back, of course. I’m owed the leave after you and the others finish up with your residencies, so it’s not a huge deal to take it early. But after everything this past week, now is when I should give myself some time.”

“I see,” she says, resuming their walk. They turn into the park, a favorite spot of theirs for having well-lit paths and interesting views.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll get into some research. When I’m up to it, maybe I’ll travel. Take my sister on a trip to visit my parents.”

Claire smiles. “She’d probably like that.”

“I know. I would too,” he replies, wistful.

There are a good number of people out tonight, a few runners, but mostly walkers like them. The evening hour and good weather haven’t forced people indoors for the night just yet.

“I think that sounds nice. You deserve a break.” She glances at him, laughing to herself. “If you needed to get away from us residents for a while, there are easier ways to do it than getting yourself knocked around during an earthquake.”

Neil chuckles along with her for a moment, but his humor fades quickly, replaced by something tense and undefinable. “We agreed on something else tonight, Lim, Glassman and I.” She blinks up at him, curious. “When I come back, whenever that is, I won’t be your Attending anymore.”

This time, Claire does stop in her tracks, turning to face him as if demanding an immediate explanation.

Sighing, he directs her to a bench looking onto downtown. “It’s good for me to rest for a bit,” he explains. Claire checks him over for any sign of discomfort or injury as he gingerly eases into a sitting position. It’s an easy distraction from the news he’s just dropped on her. “I’m fine, just taking it easy. Don’t worry.” She nods and sits down next to him.

“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you be our Attending anymore? Andrews is filling in now and it’s fine, but …” She seems unable to articulate the arguments for why she and her colleagues want or need to finish out their residencies with him. He has to admit, it makes him feel good to be appreciated in this way. Then he notices her escalating distress. “Is this about what I said—"

“No!” he says, cutting her off. “No, Claire, that’s not … you’re not …” He sighs, now a bit distressed himself at having upset her. “This is about me being out of commission for longer than you have time for with the program. I’m proud of you all, and it upsets me, too, to feel as if I’m abandoning you.”

Claire relaxes, though she still seems tense. “I know you’re not abandoning us, Neil. You need to take care of yourself. It’s just … a big deal.” Her shoulders unclench and she appears more accepting of the news. “We’ll find some way to cope without you.” He smiles at that. “I know we’ll miss you. _I’ll_ miss you,” she admits, almost as if she’s afraid to say it out loud.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Neil says, holding her gaze. “And I’ll likely be right here with you eventually, just not in the same capacity. Even when I come back, I’ll need to ease into surgeries, take a lighter schedule, more administrative duties. Supervising residents is grueling. And I have to face the fact that I won’t be up to that for a while. I don’t think it’s fair to any of you or to myself to just waltz back in for the last leg of your residency and make you limp along with me. If I’m even able to stay at this hospital.”

Claire shakes her head. “There’s no way the board would let you go. I’m sure of that. But if it’s what you want in the end, you should consider it. Glassman would hate that, of course,” she jokes.

Neil hopes her pointing that out means maybe she’d hate it too.

“I’d like nothing more than seeing the four of you through to the end. I want to jump back into my regular life and continue as if none of this near-death stuff happened. But I know I can’t. And there are things I want that I didn’t fully realize until now,” he says, never shifting his eyes from hers. “I want some time to heal and figure out how to be the surgeon I was before my injury. I want to spend time being thankful that I’m still around to have options of what to do with my life, enjoy things I keep putting off.” He sighs. “Almost dying really does a number on you.”

“I imagine so,” Claire says softly beside him, no longer looking at him but out into the city. He admires the beauty of her in profile, the strength he gets from simply sitting at her side. An overwhelming urge for her to understand what she means to him becomes all he can process.

He leans into her briefly to get her attention again. “About that. I’ve wanted to tell you this since I woke up from surgery, but I couldn’t seem to find the right words to get at what I need to say.”

Next to him, he feels Claire’s body tense, her breath hitch and that cute little furrow in her brow appear

“Claire, you saved me. Audrey and Andrews were a big part of it too, but at the end of the day, it was you. Thank you.”

Shaking her head, Claire chuckles either at him or at herself over her reaction to his admission. “No, I was just in the right place at the right time. You were too stubborn to die on an operating table.”

“And I was too stubborn to get help when I needed it. Whether it was luck or divine intervention or whatever you want to call it, I’m grateful. For you.”

Claire looks away shyly. “Well, I think it was all you.” She glances back at him. “You’re going to be okay, Neil. No matter what happens or where you go or for how long.”

Neil nods. “And I’m sorry for being a jerk the last time I saw you. There was a lot in my head that I hadn’t sorted out, and I kind of took it out on you. It wasn’t right.”

“It’s fine, Neil,” Claire says. “I was being emotional, anyway. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” he assures her. “I was just in my own head. Scared about so many things, especially how to deal with this surprising, complicated thing that snuck up on me.” She stares at him, a question in her expression, and apprehension as well. Neil sighs. “It’s difficult not to feel as if I have to protect you. I know I can overcompensate sometimes.” They both smile at that.

Claire’s eyes soften as she lets his words sink in. “Neil, I’m a grown woman, capable of making her own reasoned choices and living with the consequences. And I’m your colleague, hopefully your friend, too.” He nods, agreeing. “I don’t need you to protect me. I just want you to be honest with me, even if what you have to say is hard or sad.”

“That,” Neil responds, “is a reasonable thing to ask. “I’ll try my best to be a good friend. No matter what.”

He takes in and lets out a deep breath, happy to have cleared the air. Claire seems more relaxed as well. They sit comfortably on the bench for long minutes, enjoying the evening and each other’s easy company.

Finally, he smiles at her, a playful glint in his eye. “Now that I got that off my chest, I do have something else I want to tell you, though.

Catching his merriment, she glares at him suspiciously. “Well, me too. I go first?” Neil nods, amused by her bossiness. “I figure I should get some things off my chest, too, after your brush with death. You know, don’t wait around to tell the people in my life how I really feel."

“Okay,” Neil says, wary.

She takes a deep breath. “I want you to know,” she pauses to turn her body more fully toward him. “I want you to know that I hate your tattoo. Seeing you in a hospital gown reminds me that there’s just no making it look dignified. There’s way too much antler on that thing.

Neil can’t stop looking at the beautiful way her face brightens when she smiles. He joins in, also turning more fully toward her. “And I wanted to say that on my deathbed, the main thing I kept going back to is that you are a such a terrible bowler.” Claire erupts in laughter, likely because she knows it’s true. “You’re probably the worst I’ve ever seen. Gutter balls all over the place, no socks for the rental shoes, that terrible pink ball? Just awful.”

She reaches over to shove him playfully, and he uses the opportunity to take her hand in his. His emotions are right at the surface and her warm hand grasping onto him without hesitation is enough to make his heart soar. Intertwining their fingers, he looks down at her until he has her attention again. The expression on her face is so full of wonder and determination, all aimed at him

He won’t deny himself this any longer. It’s time to be brave. If she’ll have him.

“I love you,” he murmurs down to her.

She closes her eyes at hearing those words from him as if savoring them, committing them to memory. When she reopens them, it’s with a lovely, open acceptance.

“I love you, too.”

Her smile is a modest, pure light to his heart. A tear forms at the corner of her eye and he lets go of her hand to reach up and wipe it away before it can fall. Scooting over closer on the bench, she leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He eases his arm around her, finally holding her to him after so many moments of wanting her in his embrace like this. She reaches for his hand and entwines their fingers again. When he looks down, it’s straight into her eyes that stare up at him with a misty contentment, as if she’s come home after a long, rough journey.

An eternity would be too short a time to sit with her here like this. He’s going to fight for this and live with the collateral damage. He knows in his gut – his battered, reconstructed, and slowly healing gut – that she’s worth it. He’s always known it deep down.

His eyes wander to her soft cheek, her pink-stained lips still upturned. Lifting his hand to her face, he traces the lines at her brow and the beauty marks highlighting her lovely features. She grins against his fingers at her mouth, and he can feel her pulse jump against his palm at her neck. The hum of satisfaction from deep in her throat when he cups her face is his undoing.

Unable to hold back one more second, he leans down and presses his lips to hers.

It’s a slow tasting of each other as he increases the pressure of his mouth on hers, her bottom lip moist between his. He drowns in the sure response to him as she goes in for more. He feels her hand grip his thigh before moving up his chest as they deepen their kiss, the soft sounds of mouths and tongues exploring freely and hungrily while never getting enough.

There’s a vague awareness that they’re in a public space making out for all the world to see, but that doesn’t deter him from dipping into her again and again, her meeting him every time. Finally, she pulls away, needing to catch her breath, but staying squarely in his personal space. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and breathes her in, feeling the moments pass by. And he’s so thankful for this time to make things right with her

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he says into her hair.

“I know the feeling,” she says, rubbing his chest. “You’ve certainly made up for lost time.”

“I knew there was no going back for me. It’s terrifying,” he chuckles.

“And now? Is it worth the risk?” She asks carefully, though she likely already knows the answer. Feels it in the way he kisses her and holds her.

“It is.” He kisses her again, lets it linger for a moment before pulling away. “So, you ready to head back? I think I’m rested up.”

She snickers as she stands from the bench and helps him carefully to his feet. “Lead the way.” He offers her his arm and she takes it immediately, snuggling into his side. They make their way out of the park and back onto the sidewalk that will return them to the hospital.

“I was thinking,” he says.

“Uh oh. This ought to be good,” she teases. He pushes into her shoulder and she giggles next to him.

“I’m wondering about all the things we can do together now. You know, real date things. In the past week, you’ve twice gotten my shirt off me, had your hands deep into my internal organs. The least I can do is take you out to dinner.” He loves that he can make her laugh so openly. “Or we could go dancing or to see a show. Well, maybe not dancing for a while.

Claire shakes her head. “Neil, we’ve pretty much been dating for weeks. That ship has sailed.” Looking back on it, the dinners, the bowling, the movie they’d seen one rainy afternoon – he supposes she has a point.

“Right. Okay, our first official dates then.” They discuss a few options, she suggests a drive down the coast, he teases her about her improving her bowling skills. She goes on to fill him in on hospital gossip, and he tells her about visiting Marta and hearing yet again about her beer engine save. Her cackles fill him with butterflies when he tells her he doesn’t regret missing that because he would have found it too damn sexy. It’d be no good for the patient if he had to make out with her in the middle of surgery.

This new overtly playful side to them is exciting. Freeing.

As they approach the hospital entrance, she releases his arm, not wanting to announce to the world quite yet what they are to each other. Neil understands, but he already misses the comfort of her so close.

“I think we should stay in for our first date,” Claire declares. “You need to rest. And you can do that by cooking for me.”

“Oh, I’m the one cooking?” he laughs, rather liking the idea.

She rolls her eyes. “You _are_ the one on leave. And I know you’re bored.” She’s got him on that point. They stop in front of the building. “So, maybe this weekend?”

“No,” Neil says, firm in his rejection. “I mean, it won’t be much of a dinner for me since I’m not quite up to a normal diet.” Claire looks away, embarrassed at not having thought of that. He places a finger on her chin and returns her attention to hin. “And I don’t think I can wait that long anyway. “How about tomorrow after you’re done here?” 

Laughing, Claire nods. “It’s a date. A real one this time.”

Although they’re standing close – closer than two platonic friends would be standing – neither wants to potentially draw unwanted attention to their change in relationship status. Neil kicks himself for not stealing another kiss a block or two before they’d arrived. Instead, he briefly takes her hand and squeezes it once before dropping it again.

It seems she doesn’t want to leave his company either. She continues to stand with him, now putting her hands in her pocket for the same reason he’s done the same – so he won’t reach for her.

“So,” she says, breaking their stalemate. “Just to be clear, are you or aren’t you my boss tomorrow night when I show up.”

Neil pretends to ponder it. “Well, I’m on medical leave pending sabbatical and then reassignment. So, I’m thinking, no.”

She muses on his answer, tucking a few stray curls behind her ear. “Good. I’d hate to break any protocols.” Although her words sound serious, the playful expression on her face says otherwise.

“We couldn’t have that, Dr. Browne. Bases covered.” He feels as if his every emotion is written all over his face when he stares down softly at her. “We’ll just have to find another name for us.”

When she smiles and then looks away, not quickly enough to hide the adoring response to his words, he knows they’re both lost. And he can’t wait to get swept away in this with her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He takes a few steps backward, reluctant to break his view of her. Claire nods, still smiling. “Thanks for the walk.”

“Anytime.” She takes a few steps away herself before turning and heading toward the parking garage. He catches her looking back once, grins adorably, and then picks up her pace across the street. When he sees her greet the security guard at the entrance, he retreats to the parking lot around the corner.

“Anytime,” he repeats to himself.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Real life got a bit busy, but mostly it's because I wrote a new chapter (this one). Thanks to those who wondered how their date the next night would go. Adding this new perspective helps even out the story I think. And we're still on track for the next few chapters. They're done and just waiting for their final edit as I have time.
> 
> Thanks everyone for reading!

_**He Loves Me** _

Claire is nervous. She knows she shouldn’t be but she is.

She sits in her car in the hospital’s parking garage, phone in hand, about to text Neil that she’s on her way. Should she offer to pick something up? He’s already said his diet is limited, and he can’t drink either. And even if he could drink, he likely has his own high-end liquor options and wouldn’t need her corner store selection. Should she offer to park in his garage if he’s worried someone will see her there? Or would that make her sound like he _should_ be worried when he’s not, and that then makes him start worrying because he thinks she’s worried? _Is_ she worried?

Ugh, this isn’t helping. She needs to get a hold of herself.

Instead of spinning her wheels, she texts him a simple message that she’s on her way. He responds right away with an emoji of the smiley face with the heart eyes and a ‘see you soon.’ It helps her calm down.

It’s not until she pulls out of her parking space that she realizes she’s still smiling at his message. How can she not light up knowing without a doubt that Neil loves her. Loves her as much as she loves him.

What happened with him last night had gone beyond anything she’d ever expected, full of tender revelations and admissions she hadn’t let herself even consider. When he’d surprised her in the lounge, that boyish grin and casual demeanor about him, she’d wanted to keep her resolve, start building that distance she needed to get over him. Part of her wanted him to feel hurt by her cold shoulder the way he’d hurt her. Yet the reality of him, standing there looking at her with open kindness, jettisoned all her intentions. She was just happy to see him.

And she could tell something had changed with him. What it was, she’d had no idea, and it made her nervous.

As she’d finished her charts and he’d puttered around his office, she thought maybe he wanted to confront her about the strange vibe they’d struggled with for the last few weeks and move forward. Or maybe he’d want to address head on what she’d been about to say the last time they’d seen each other. Let her down gently. In the back of her mind was still Morgan’s suggestion that a rekindling of his romance with Lim would make him want to do that sooner rather than later, clear the air and get it over with.

It’s amazing how wrong she’d been.

When he started off talking about taking a sabbatical, she’d been shocked but not completely surprised. But when he’d revealed that he’d no longer be their Attending, something akin to devastation bubbled inside her. The idea of another abandonment cut too deep against her raw nerves. No matter how things worked out, she’d assumed he’d return to his routine at the hospital eventually. Even knowing the circumstances, she panicked thinking she’d played a part in pushing him to this.

Now, as they’re about to take the next steps into this romantic unknown, she’s thankful for this option to figure things out away from work; take things slow without prying eyes. It doesn’t solve all their problems, but it solves the biggest ones.

After dropping that bomb, he’d slowly peeled back the layers of his feelings. He cycled through his sober reflections and his jokes at her expense. He signaled that maybe she’d been right to suspect something real between them. And then finally he gave her that quiet confession of love, and she fell over the edge. Utterly and completely.

The look of peace on his face when she told him she returned that love is a moment she’ll remember always.

So lost in those memories, she doesn’t realize she’s almost to his place. She’s only been there once before, a team dinner as a change of pace from their daily grind at the hospital. At the time, he’d just moved, so his living space had that pristine mid-century modern vibe she’s curious if he’s maintained. There are so many new things she can’t wait to learn about him.

One thing’s for sure, though. There will definitely be no sleeping over. Some cuddling is inevitable, and a bit of making out seems on the table. Of course, she finds him incredibly attractive, but until recently, it’d been in this abstract, off-limits kind of way. When Shaun had accused her of subconsciously flirting with Neil so long ago, she'd dismissed it and didn’t give it much thought afterwards. She’d been with Jared and he with Jessica Preston and there were enough distractions for it to get lost in the shuffle. Looking back on it, though, she finds it rather funny how much they’d both flirted with each other over the years – an occasional wink from him, a girlish giggle from her at one of his jokes, a shared confidence or a sincere and personal word of encouragement. Since the beginning something had always pulled them toward each other. 

And she’s certainly had her share of fantasies about him. On his desk. In the lounge. Eventually in her bed.

However, she’s still so scared about her boundaries with men and sex. And if there was ever a relationship she does not want to mess up, it’s this one. She’s hoping he cooperates on the no sex front. Because if she sees him without a shirt, even with the surgery scars, that might be tempting.

Or if he flirts with her too much.

Or if he’s too sweet.

No, Claire, no contingencies, she chastises. Sex can wait. Loving him openly and freely is enough to hold her over for a while. 

She pulls up at his house and parks, eager to see him but having no idea what to expect. Will he be nervous too? She hopes so because then she won’t feel so emotionally at sea. Nothing else to do but to find out.

Claire cuts the engine and takes a deep breath. It doesn’t quite ease the butterflies in her stomach. Then again, she rather likes that seeing him gives her butterflies. It reminds her of those innocent signs of her affection for him. She wonders if he’s watching for her arrival, and it stirs the butterflies once more. She laughs to think of him wondering why she’s hiding out in her car. She’s wondering that herself. With one last shake of her head at her own silliness, she grabs her purse and exits her car, locking the door behind her. Taking her time on the walkway, she lets herself feel the anticipation and nerves along with the excitement and longing to see Neil.

Then he’s standing in front of her in his doorway, looking as bemused at his own emotions as she. And he looks happy to see her.

It all feels so satisfying.

“Right on time,” he says. He immediately moves aside to let her in.

She enters, close enough to feel the brush of his body against hers as she passes by, unbuttoning her jacket. Without missing a beat, he’s helping her slide it off her shoulders so he can hang it up in the closet by the door. As he’s doing that, she walks further into the room, cataloguing all the details that she remembers from the last time she’d been here and the things she hadn’t noticed before.

Before she can get too caught up in taking in his new surroundings, she instead turns around and walks into his arms for a proper greeting. She reaches up to meet his kiss, a natural and almost instinctive impulse. She lets him guide the press of their bodies together, sensitive to his injury. But he seems unbothered by holding her close.

“Thanks for coming over,” he murmurs in her ear as he hugs her. His embrace is full of comfort as he hums his contentment and gently rocks her before letting her go. “I have a very delicious smoothie to prepare for you as a unique first official date dining experience.”

“I can’t wait. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Have you?” he says, his voice laced with humor. “Your enthusiasm tells me that you must have eaten before you got here.”

Claire laughs. “So cynical!” His expression is challenging, hers contrite as he guides her to the kitchen. “Okay, I may have had a bigger lunch than normal.” The answer seems to please him at being right.

“Traitor. It’s a good thing I like you.” He leans down again for a kiss to confirm his thought. As promised, there are various items lined up on the counter – bananas, oats, protein, greens, and some kind of milk. There’s also a blender and two large glasses with metal straws at the ready.

“Before we get to that, though, can I get the grand tour? The last time I was here, I had so many questions about how Dr. Neil Melendez lives his life.”

“Oh really?” He leans against his counter, arms crossed. “Like what?”

Claire’s exaggerated posture as she ponders his question seems to amuse him. “I’m thinking of burning questions like what’s in Dr. Melendez’s refrigerator?” Neil waves a hand at the items on the counter. “Or,” she continues dramatically “how big is Dr. Melendez’s closet? Is one of his guest rooms actually a weight room?” Claire then looks him up and down. “What does he wear when he’s at home? I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans.” It’s what he’d chosen to wear, along with a plain t-shirt, for their stay-at-home date. And it confirms that he looks sexy in pretty much anything.

At every question she’s posed, he laughs a little harder. “Well, you’re in luck, Dr. Browne. All will be revealed.” He takes her hand and leads her from the kitchen.

“Oh wait!” Claire stops him before they get too far into the tour. “Shoes or no shoes.” She notices that he’s not wearing shoes, and taking off her shoes tends to be the first thing she does in her own home.

Neil smiles at her. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He points to a little cubbyhole off the front door. “You can throw them in there if you want to take them off.” Claire immediately steps out of her heels and does just that, joining him again a few moments later.

The main parts of the house she’s seen before, the living and dining areas, the kitchen and the downstairs half bathroom. They peek into the guest bedroom on that level, which turns out to be his home office, though the couch in the corner turns into a bed if he needs it. Then they wander upstairs where he shows her another guest bedroom that actually is a bedroom. But she erupts in laughter at seeing the weight set in the corner of the room. Neil grins, but doesn’t comment, leading her out and down the hallway. They poke their head into another bathroom before he guides her, still clutching her hand, into his bedroom at the end of the hallway.

“I feel like I’m going to find out so many more interesting things about you after I walk through this door,” Claire says.

Her bedroom has so many personal items and small touches, it’s almost as if each little area tells its own story. Not just the pictures she likes to keep in there, but everything from the decorations on the wall to her linens, the things she leaves on counter tops and what ends up casually tossed across her bed or on her side table. The rest of Neil’s house is so minimalist and restrained, though in a tasteful and refined way. She wonders if there will be any expressive surprises in how he keeps the most personal part of his home space.

Neil squeezes her hands and flicks the light on. “I can’t wait to hear your thoughts then.”

The first thing she notices is how small his bed is. “Are you kidding me? Is that a double-size bed? I would not have guessed that?”

Neil feigns offense. “What’s wrong with a double bed? I’m just one person. And when it’s not just me, I’d rather they be closer, not farther away.”

Smacking his arm at the sass, she steps farther into the room, taking in the surroundings. “I don’t know. I just figured you for a California king kind of guy.”

“I’m a sound sleeper, I don’t need something like that taking up all the space in my room. Besides, it’s not like I spend a ton of time in here.”

Claire shrugs. “Fair enough.” The room is on the smaller size for a master, about the same as the guest rooms, so she can understand that.

She’s pleased to see the little touches of Neil around the room, maybe not as expressive as hers, but definitely a reflection of some of the things she knows about him. When she sees the copy of Moby Dick on his bedside table, bookmark moved toward the last section of the book, she strokes his arm in affection. There’s also a sports magazine underneath, a small journal and pen, and a tall, empty glass next to it. She lets go of his hand to pick up the arty knick-knack that he tends to favor in his décor, this one next to the lamp on the opposite bedside table.

“Cute.” She puts it back down to note the artwork on the wall. Again, tasteful, even interesting when you compare it to the pieces he has in his common area.

Neil wanders to the other side of the room where he opens a door and invites her in. His closet.

That is, if you could call it that.

When he turns on the light, they walk into a bona fide room with plenty of space for both of them to enter and maneuver around. Along one wall is a sea of suits – blazers and slacks, dress shirts, a few still in their dry cleaning wrap. Then it moves to more casual wear with a broad selection of khakis, jeans, button-down shirts, and short- and long-sleeved options. There’s a dresser that presumably holds his foldable items and socks. A collection of shoes is displayed in a rack against the wall, everything from loafers and dress shoes to sneakers and house shoes.

“Are your suits color-coded?” she asks, amazed. Neil grins and shrugs. “And, oh my god, are those ties? Actual ties?” She flicks a blue one with her finger, and he swats her hand away before taking it in his again. She can count on one hand the number of times she’s seen him in a tie.

“I’m full of surprises, what can I say. Does this meet your expectations?” There’s a playful light in his eyes as he asks.

Claire twirls around in the space. “Neil, this is almost as big as my bedroom. I didn’t think I was one of those women who gushed over closet space, but I think I could learn to appreciate it.” She runs a hand down his arm as she moves to leave. “Definitely learning so much about you.”

Neil laughs. “Good. I think.” He turns off the closet light, leading her to another partially closed door, presumably the bathroom.

“This should be good.” Bathrooms, Claire finds, are particularly telling, especially what people choose to put in their medicine cabinet. When Neil turns on the light, he lets Claire go in first.

She gasps as she drops his hand and takes it all in. “You’ve got to be kidding me?” Again, it’s massive. Double sinks, separate toilet area, a large shower with a luxury showerhead and built-in bench and a massive tub on the other side of the room. That’s where Claire heads first. And when she peeks in, she confirms that there are jacuzzi jets in the deep soaking tub.

“Now this is shocking. I also didn’t figure you for a guy with such a fancy tub.” She retakes his hand and prods him into helping her climb in, much to his amusement. Once inside the tub she spreads her limbs out relishing how much space there is and imagining the incredible baths she could take in it. There’s a ledge where she could put some candles and a glass of wine or a book. Maybe Neil would even join her for a few of those.

Nope, she dismisses. Thinking about reclining in a steamy romantic bath with Neil is dangerous, and she’s already warned herself not to go down that road tonight.

Having no idea how easily her thoughts have slipped into the salacious, Neil laughs at her languishing in his tub. “I’m man enough to admit that I love baths. It’s good for the body, especially after an intense workout.”

Now her thoughts drift to the image of a naked, wet Neil Melendez lying in a bathtub and, well, she needs to get out of this room. She stands up and without prompting, Neil helps her climb out of the tank-like tub.

“I’m going to be extra nice to you so maybe you’ll let me visit that tub sometimes.”

“Are you going to come see me, too, or just use me for my tub?”

Claire thinks about it. “I guess I can multitask on that one.” They chuckle as Claire’s eyes linger at his countertops, as neat as she’d expected. His shaving items are out along with some hair product and a toothbrush cup in the corner by the medicine cabinet. There’s a hand towel lying next to the sink rather than on the rack where it probably usually sits and a blue towel hangs next to the shower.

Claire takes one last look before walking out, Neil following as he turns off the light.

“And that’s it,” he says as they head back downstairs. “Well, except for the garage and there’s nothing to write home about there.”

“Don’t worry, what I’ve seen has given me plenty of peeks inside that brilliant head of yours.” She cups the side of his face for a moment as they wander back into the kitchen.

They talk idly about their day as Neil prepares their dinner smoothies. He admits that the intensity of the previous day, both the stress of his conversation with Lim and Glassman and the more wonderful conversation with her, had sapped his energy. He’d slept in and then mostly taken it easy so he’d have enough left in the tank to spend with her. She talks about the surgery she and the team had finally done on their patient who’d had another bit of stubbornness following his night in the hospital. But they’d gotten consent finally, and everything had gone well.

She told him that Park had asked this morning if she’d run into Neil the previous night, probably fishing for some kind of gossip. It impresses her how cool she played it. As she tells Neil, all she’d revealed to Park was that their Attending is still considering how long to be out and left it at that. He can decide for himself how and when to bring everyone else into the loop.

They go out to the patio area with their smoothies and sit together on the couch staring out into the city. She compliments him on his blending skills, then pokes fun by suggesting it’s from all the protein shakes he probably makes for himself to keep such a hot body. He jokes back that she better enjoy these days when he’s recuperating because it’s the only time she’ll be able to outpace him at the gym or on the track.

It’s all very comfortable for her and for Neil as well, it seems.

“So, what are you thinking in terms of your sabbatical,” she asks, placing her empty glass on the table in front of them. He’s still slowly sipping his, so she twists her body around to face him as he relaxes next to her.

Neil sighs. “I don’t know. I think six months is too long. If it were a traditional sabbatical that I’d actually planned, I might feel differently. I’m looking at another couple of weeks at least of medical leave. I can spend that time with Gabi and visiting my parents. I don’t think I’ll be up to doing anything too strenuous otherwise. Then it’ll be another few months of light duty even if I were to go back right away."

“That’ll give you time to consider other options, too,” she suggests. “Giving yourself a couple of weeks away from the hospital to think about what’s on the table doesn’t hurt.”

“True.” Neil puts his feet up on the ottoman and stretches out a bit. “There’s not enough time to have something in place right after that, although I’d consider an opportunity if it looks interesting. Glassman is keeping his eye out. Keeping all that in mind, I’m thinking it’ll turn into another two or three months for sabbatical.”

“Is that long enough, though? Six months may be too long, but four months has been the minimum, right?”

“Usually, yes, but that’s with total leave for research or to teach. I’ll be coming back gradually on a part-time basis. So technically, I’ll be using that sabbatical allotment for that.”

Claire nods. “I guess that makes sense. What are your options? Write up some case reports? Research? Teach?”

“Definitely not teaching,” he confirms. She narrows her eyes at him, and he laughs. “Yeah, you’re right to be offended. The four of you are a handful.” She shakes her head at him, but is grinning. The four of them are a lot to handle sometimes. “Besides, it’s too late even to adjunct for the next semester. I’ll probably do some writing to build up my CV. Stock up on CMEs. And I’ve been neglecting the conference circuit the last couple of years. There are three big ones over the next six months that I wouldn’t mind attending. And Glassman liked the idea of me going to more if I’m up for it. Get St. Bonaventure’s name out there without having to be down an available surgeon.”

Claire nods. “True. Anywhere fun?”

“New York City and Chicago with a third in Portland if Glassman doesn’t end up going himself. I’ve got my eye on another in Miami that looks promising.” He grins over at her. “And the conference might be interesting too.”

She laughs as wickedness. “That could be fun,” she agrees.

“Yeah, it could be. And who knows, maybe I can convince you to join me for a trip or two.” His flirty tone warms her all over.

It should seem too soon to be thinking of that, yet it also sounds like the most natural thing in the world to contemplate these new things they can do. And the idea of meeting up with Neil in another city, free to be together away from their everyday lives, is rather appealing. Hearing his tentative plans are exciting, but she’s skeptical because they’re both the worst kind of workaholic. Claire considers the entire time she’s known him, and the longest he’s ever been away from the hospital was about three days for vacation during her first year.

“Gosh, I can’t remember the last time you’ve been away for more than a day or two. Not for vacation _or_ for work.”

“No kidding,” he says, a bit exasperated. “Jessica and I had been planning for a wedding so the travel was supposed to happen afterward. Audrey and I would take weekend trips, and we’d talked a big game about maybe going somewhere like Brazil or Japan. But the idea that we’d both be able to get out of work at the same time for that long seems silly now.”

At hearing him mention Dr. Lim, something in Claire flares up, and she frowns. It only burns for an instant before she pushes it back down, now knowing that her fears about Neil and Dr. Lim were a product of her nervous imagination. Yet, the tense emotions associated with it don’t just disappear, she’s finding out.

Recovering quickly, Claire’s weak smile tries to cover up the backslide into her previous anxiety. “That’s a shame,” she says.

Unfortunately, Neil is more perceptive than she’s gotten used to in their new relationship. The way he’s looking at her is quizzical, not sure what to ask, but knowing there’s something there.

“You going to tell what that tone’s about?”

She looks away. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“I don’t believe you,” he replies, gently. “And I’m confused because I know you’re well aware that Audrey and I used to be together.”

“Of course, I am.” Claire rolls her eyes. He remains silent, waiting, not pushing but clearly not taking no for an answer. She sighs. “Fine. This past week, I may have possibly had a thought that you and Lim were getting back together.”

Judging by the look in his eyes, he wants to laugh. But he doesn’t, probably because he knows it would get him in a world of trouble.

Claire dismisses the idea with a sweep of her hand. “Morgan was the one going on about it.”

“How would Morgan know something like that?"

“She didn’t, she was just speculating. The only information we were hearing about you came from Lim and your dinners and visits and stuff.”

“Well, one dinner to talk about this sabbatical situation,” he clarifies. “But mostly a couple of phone calls about official business disguised as her checking up on me.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Neil. I know she’s your friend.” The look he’s giving her can really only be described as mushy. “Besides, Morgan wasn’t completely off base. Near-death experiences make you think of regrets and second chances and all that.” She can feel her cheeks getting warm, which seems to delight Neil even more.

He shrugs. “I guess some people would.” He places his empty glass next to hers on the table. “I can see if things were different, then maybe.” Carefully, he shifts to face her, stretching his arm along the back of the couch and resting his head in his hand. “For me, thinking about what could have happened, I don’t want to look to the past. I want to look forward. At the possibilities.” He takes her hand and caresses her fingers with his thumb. “With you, if I need to be clearer on that."

Those butterflies start up again as she smiles over at him. It surprises her what a comfort it is to hear that.

“I guess it’ll take some getting used to, this new thing with us.” She looks down, her nerves bubbling up again. “Have you thought about how we’re going to make this work?”

Neil grins at her. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about lately. I’m pretty scared, I’ll admit."

Claire lets out a heavy breath. “Terrified,” she agrees. They let that sink in for a few moments as they stare out the window. “What scares you the most?” Claire finally asks.

Neil thinks about it for a few beats. “I guess, I’m nervous about what people will think of me. I try to be a good guy. A responsible doctor and colleague. But my relationship track record is pretty notorious. The granddaughter of the hospital’s founder, my boss, my resident. I don’t come out of this looking good. But that doesn’t scare me. I’ll figure it out. I love you and especially after this week, it doesn’t matter what other people think about that."

She squeezes his hand, smiles at him when he finally meets her eye.

“I’m scared of not being enough for you. And that’s not about you,” he quickly adds. “It’s about my other relationships and not being able to make them work because we weren’t on the same page. I think you deserve the world, but I know my shortcomings. My arrogance and stubbornness. They’ve both been major hurdles in my last relationships.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m well acquainted with those things, and I love you anyway,” she tells him, which makes him chuckle.

“I suppose so.” He pulls at her hand to get her attention. “What are you scared of?”

“What aren’t I scared of?” she says, her pursed lips not hiding the constant flux of her emotions. “A real relationship is something I don’t have much experience with. I remember my friend Kayla calling me out for how much I run from men. She wasn’t wrong.” Claire shakes her head. “I know I mentioned to you a couple weeks ago that Dash and I had decided to just be friends, but he’d joked about that during our ‘break up’” she gestured in air quotes. “That fear I told you about when he’d first asked me out? That I’ll hurt someone I care about? It’s still there. And it’s even worse because I know I love you, and I know the stakes. I guess I’m afraid of not being good enough either, and then screwing something up.”

Neil nods. “Thanks for telling me that. Maybe if we just keep talking about it, we can help each other not be so scared. We don’t have to have all the answers right now.” Sensing her distress, he pulls at her hand again. “Come here.” Claire scoots over until she’s tucked into his side, his arm around her. “See, this? It makes the fear go away because I know it’s what we both want. All the other stuff? I’m willing to risk it. You’re worth it, I know that.”

He’s warm and pliable underneath her. Claire feels safe, something she doesn’t often say about anyone.

“I’ll try not to be too much of a mess,” she says, wrapping her arm around him.

“Hey, you’re not a mess. You’re human. One of the best I know who I also happen to like quite a bit.” He strokes her hair. “And I have to tell you sometime what a nightmare I was when I first started my residency.”

He’d hinted at being a troublemaker in those days, though she has a hard time imagining it. “I _really_ look forward to hearing about that.”

When he adjusts to pull her closer, she catches him wince, probably at inadvertently pulling his stitches. Claire immediately sits up, checking for other signs of pain.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to check your stitches?” She reaches for his shirt to check the incision site, but he stops her.

“I’m fine, just tender. It’ll be easier once I get the stitches removed.” Claire moves out of his embrace, but Neil won’t let her leave his side entirely, pulling her back in. “Oh, no you don’t.”

“Neil, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then get back here. I’m going to be fragile for a while. Get over it. And I know you really want to get my shirt off again,” he teases, “but you’re going to have to wait to have your way with me.” He grabs her arm and pulls it around him once more.

“You wish,” she says, thinking back on her vow to not jump his bones right away.

Smiling down at her, he kisses her, a soft but brief taste. “I do, actually. Just not today.”

Claire burrows into him again, and feels his soft kiss at her forehead. “It’s for the best really given that postage stamp-sized bed you have.

He laughs. “So, do _you_ have a California king, Dr. Browne?” When she rolls her eyes and looks away, he laughs even harder. “Oh, I see how it is.”

“I’m a tiny person,” she argues. “I’m the perfect size for a double.”

“Then you’ll have no problem getting comfortable in my postage stamp-sized bed. I’ll keep your need for the extra space in mind. It does have some intriguing possibilities.” His saucy grin, invites one of her own. “When do I get to see Casa Browne?”

Claire shrugs. “Whenever you want.” After thinking about it, she makes him an offer. “How about we go for a walk this weekend, and then I’ll make you breakfast at my place, even if you’re still on smoothies.”

“Deal.” Neil’s quick agreement is satisfying. “And I can’t wait to see your place. I can imagine the Claire Browne aesthetic in home décor form. Very organic. Bohemian. And I’ve seen your locker so you might need the extra days to tidy up.”

Her indignant gasp prompts another fit of laughter from him. At one point, he rubs at his abdomen and takes a few calming breaths having overdid it a bit.

“That’s what you get, teasing me like that.”

Neil cups her face, and offers a peck on her lips. “You better get used to it. This is only the beginning.” Then he returns for a more thorough taste of her, their kiss deepening in the dim room and the quiet of his house and the calm night around them.

When they finally come up for air, Claire stays close, peppering his lips with one extra kiss after another. “I can’t wait.” He smiles against her lips and she pulls away, once again snuggling into his side.

“Me neither,” Neil responds, putting his other arm around her as they simply enjoy this new undefined reality of surrendering to love.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

_**Slowly Surely** _

The atmosphere is mellow and happy, the drinks are flowing freely, and the hosts are flitting around spreading their triumphant optimism to anyone they come across. It’s a joyous occasion and nearly everyone that’s showed up knows the long road it’s taken to get to this point.

Neil turns to Noreen and Marta, beer in hand. “This place looks better than ever. I’m so excited for you.”

Marta’s smile is like sunshine as she gazes around proudly. “There were so many times I doubted we’d ever get here. “I thought it was hard the first time, but the last year has really taken the cake.” She puts her arm around Noreen. “At least I had this one to keep me sane.”

Noreen rolls her eyes at her wife, though her demeanor is anything but put out. “You talked me into this place and I wasn’t going to let you back out.” She turns to Neil. “I’m so glad you could make it. It wouldn’t be right not having you here.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he assures her.

“Speaking of missing things,” Marta says, “we’re about to start the big presentation. Where are the ladies of the hour?”

Scanning the room, he spots Claire in conversation with Morgan at the bar. Next to them is Aaron and his wife ordering a round for themselves as Audrey moves out of the way with her drink. Shaun and Park are back at the hospital with Andrews covering so the rest of them could be here, though he figures neither of his former residents were particularly keen to return after the trauma of their previous visit. 

“I think they’re all starting without you,” Neil chuckles, pointing at the bar.

Marta scoffs. “Well, we can’t have that. Let’s go, honey.” She pulls Noreen toward the front of the room, stopping along the way to greet people in true Marta-style. Neil follows slowly, surrendering to a bit of introspection as he recalls this starting point for the wild chain reaction that became his new normal. He observes the scene across the room of his colleagues together like this after such a crazy year, especially enjoying an open view of Claire.

He takes a sip of his beer to hide the goofy smile he knows is plastered on his face just thinking about her.

The last year seems to have flown by in some ways. After the earthquake, it’d taken him a long time to get back to any sort of routine, professional or otherwise. There were endless medical appointments those first few months, a strict diet while his abdominal organs healed. Only light exercise had been permitted which drove him absolutely nuts given how much time he spent in the gym or on the track.

Sorting out his physical health had only been the first part of his three-month sabbatical. He’d spent the time decompressing, and it wasn’t until he’d fully disengaged from hospital life that he realized how much he’d needed the time off. There were a lot of visits with Gabi and a trip to his parents to show them in person that he was ok. There was a lot of resting because the whole ordeal had completely kicked his ass, he wasn’t too proud to admit. Everything took him a little bit longer to do – showering, walking, cooking, shopping. So many things he’d taken for granted.

Right at the point when he’d started to get too bored, he eased back into the hospital part-time. No surgeries yet – his stamina wasn’t quite consistent enough for that. But he did conduct his share of consults and took on more of the department’s administrative work. That meant a lot of meetings for hospital committees, with donors, and at conferences. He’d managed to do a fair amount of personal travel through that, which turned out to be kind of fun. It reminded him that he could be dedicated to his work without sacrificing museums in New York, or a baseball game in Chicago, or lying on a beach in Miami every once in a while.

After another couple of months on that light schedule, he was finally cleared to resume surgeries. When he got back in the OR, being in that room with all his familiar colleagues and surrounded by the sounds and smells of what had been the daily routine, well, it was like that first refreshing swallow of water after a long run. The surgery itself had been simple, but he savored it, almost floated out of the OR for how natural and good it felt to be back doing what he loves. He’s been back at full time for a few months now after a stretch of alternating among surgery, the clinic, and his administrative duties. And nearly a year after his injury, it seems as if both everything and nothing has changed.

He has to admit, he doesn’t really miss having residents. Not yet, anyway. They really are a lot of work.

But he’s still in their orbit now that Morgan, Park, Shaun, and Claire have settled into their routine with Andrews. What surprised him, though, was how much Andrews seemed to need this new role as well. Andrews had never been one to relish the teaching part of his job. It’s something that came with the territory, more an obligation than a calling. Yet something about Neil’s motley crew of residents wormed its way into Andrews’ good graces. Once Neil returned to a regular OR schedule, he enjoyed the few occasions when one of his former residents would scrub in with him, making it feel like old times. But it’s also different because he appreciates it so much more after almost having it taken from him. He can truly accept that the changes in his life have done him good.

Neil suspects, however, that it’s Claire, his constant through everything, who kept him sane.

To say they’d taken their relationship slow is an understatement. Given the romantic in him, the glacial pace they’d moved things along should have been a major frustration. However, this deep attraction that had snuck up on them needed nurturing and care. After all, they’d come together during an incredibly difficult time in both their lives. When they’d finally allowed their feelings room to grow, he’d still been healing physically and she emotionally. The love was there, so plainly accessible on the surface of them. But they wanted to get things right.

So, it’d started with dinner that first night after their walk. He’d still been on a no-solids diet so he’d made them both smoothies, and they’d sat curled into each other on his couch having those first tentative conversations about their hopes and fears and also making each other laugh. After that, she’d come over after her shift as her schedule allowed, or he’d linger at her place after a shared meal out or the walks and then runs together they still very much enjoyed.

She’d brought him a puzzle when he’d complained a little too often about being bored. That gift had been particularly meaningful because Gabi loves puzzles, and it’s something they’d do together when he’d visit with her. At first Claire, thought she’d made a mistake to get it for him, but he’d quickly assured her that her instincts are perfect. Now, picking away at a puzzle is a regular thing for them to do on a quiet weeknight when they’re too tired to do anything productive but also too wired to sleep.

Gabi herself took a little longer to warm up to Claire. His sister could sense the change in Neil and the depth of his affection for this new person, and it made her a bit jealous. But Claire kept at it, and like most everyone else she encounters, she’d eventually won Gabi over through many puzzles and stories and shared jokes at Neil’s expense. Now he teases that Gabi is more excited to see Claire than him on the occasions she tags along for one of his visits.

Those first months gave them both time to adjust to their new circumstances; to get comfortable being an ‘us’ in a way that feels uncompromising and true to what they want. Before long, they settled into a routine. At times it felt like the only thing to ground him in the rapidly shifting chaos of his life.

And it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Their relationship had its hiccups as they became accustomed to the consequences of their choices. Frustrated that he couldn’t just return to his old professional life, he could be overbearing when hearing about her work day, grilling her about diagnoses or surgical approaches. She’d had to tell him on more than one occasion that although she’d always welcome his guidance as a friend and colleague, he needed to remember that he’s her lover, not her Attending.

Likewise, being in a serious relationship was new to Claire, and it took work for her to understand the little courtesies of building this shared life – the calling when she’ll be late, thinking about him before making plans, actually talking to him if she gets skittish or doesn’t know how to respond to something he’s done. Once he’d gone back to work, that had been a whole new situation to navigate as they learned the balance of discretion.

They do pretty okay, though, overall, and their days and nights are filled with a peacefulness neither has experienced before.

Looking back on those early days, it strikes Neil as rather shocking how long they kept things so chaste. They’d hold hands during a walk or cuddle together in front of the TV, her head on his shoulder or him nestled into her along the couch. There were plenty of kisses in welcome and goodnight, lots of petting, and maybe some shameless groping at times. He’d learned of her love of lingerie, which tortured his thoughts on a daily basis. More often than not, he’d wonder what she had on underneath her demure, feminine work attire. His first glimpse of this violet satin number quickly became his favorite.

He desired her badly, of course, but the sex didn’t seem as important as the intimacy of simply being together and getting to know each other at their own pace. Besides, in the beginning, he’d been in no shape to take things too far and not eager to compromise. For Claire, sex didn’t mean love, and she seemed content to simply be in love with him.

They got there eventually. The long period of yearning and emotional foreplay made their exploration of each other pretty satisfying. And the sex was hot as hell.

It had started with wandering hands as they’d relax together on his patio or on her couch. Or she’d come up behind him in the kitchen as they’d make dinner or brunch together and run her hands along his chest and back. He’d burned a whole pan of onions as a result of one evening’s friskiness. Then the casual caresses turned into bold groping, a lingering hand along her waist dipping lower than usual to grip her backside or the slow unbuttoning of his shirt at the end of a workday to help him get more comfortable.

Then the sleepover’s started – no sex at first, just closeness and comfort. But their unspoken distance hadn’t lasted long, and it only took a few nights before he’d found her hand playing at the waistband of his pants or his own fingers sneaking up her thigh under the covers. In the quiet of their bedrooms, they whispered their playful desires, their teasing. Then there’d be hot open-mouthed kisses, leading to the shedding of clothes, and the slow exploration of each other’s bodies.

Not yet ready for an extended exertion, he’d insisted on discovering everything he could about what turned her on. She’d been his delicious experiment and that had been incredibly fun for him. But when she’d insisted on returning the favor to ease him back in the saddle, that had been sweet torture. She called it revenge for all of ways he’d made her lose control. Yet, what she could do with her hands and mouth made him shiver just thinking about it. How could a woman be so sweet yet so in control of all his most intense fantasies?

And when they fully consummated their relationship, well, he hadn’t experienced true satisfaction until he had Claire Browne in his bed writhing underneath him or grinding over him, urging him on with her sounds of pleasure and a body totally given over to him. Eventually they’d replicated their success in the living room and the bathroom and even in the kitchen – though thankfully not while in the middle of dinner anymore.

He couldn’t remember being so happy. So utterly content in a world that made complete sense as long as he got to spend the night with his arms around her.

Yet his favorite moments weren’t those passion-filled days and nights, though those were definitely one of the highlights of any week. He treasured the mundane times when they laid bare who they truly were with someone who loved what they saw before them.

Making breakfast together after a run became their favorite thing to do. And they liked going to the farmers market together. She’d gone suit shopping with him once and it’d turned into this fun, grand adventure. He’d come to accept her slight messiness, and often found it endearing, though he’d never admit it to her. There were times when he’d smile coming upon her jewelry left at the side of the sink or a coffee mug discarded on the counter when she leaves before him. And she learned to be sensitive to his OCD-level cleanliness by keeping those touches to a minimum.

He thought of those nights when he’d be reviewing something for work or reading a book, maybe just talking idly with her as he cooked or they sat discussing their day. She’d take out her guitar and strum some melodies in the background. The sweet sound of her humming would grow a few words until a song streamed from her lips – an old torch ballad, a soulful R&B slow jam, an upbeat rock song or funny pop cover. And she’d pull from a pretty wide catalogue of artists, from Stevie Nicks to Stevie Wonder, Johnny Cash to John Legend. Often, he’d stop whatever he was doing to just lean back and listen, let her be free to unwind and improvise, not caring that he’s there to bear witness. It’s not something she shares with many people, but she did so with him, and he expressed his gratitude by enjoying it without comment other than a lingering kiss when she’d finish. Eventually, she’d even take his requests, allowing him to hold her as she serenades him.

They’ve even talked about fostering rescue dogs. One tiny step toward a more permanent life together.

That night of the earthquake, he had laid in bed wondering if he would die, thinking about regrets and missed opportunities. And now he spends every day with someone he loves more than he thought himself capable. 

He gets to stand in this room that changed everything for him and have the body and breath to savor his friend and colleague, his lover. His Claire.

Almost to the bar, Claire finally sees his approach and sends a curious look his way, probably because he’s staring at her. It doesn’t bother him that others may notice; he doesn’t care who knows how he feels about her or who sees his adoration and his open love for this woman. He winks at her, and she rolls her eyes before returning to her conversation.

They both deserve to be happy, and he sees no reason to hide it ever again.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

_**The Way** _

“It’s still so weird seeing him like this,” Morgan says grabbing her drink from the bar.

“Who?” Claire leans into the counter waiting for her beer. She’d just caught Neil staring at her. Again. She’d rolled her eyes at him and then turned away so as not to get sucked into his flirting tactics from across the room.

“Melendez.” That draws Claire’s attention away from the bartender and to the woman beside her.

“What’s weird about seeing him? You’ve worked with him for over four years now.”

“No, it’s not weird seeing him generally. It’s weird seeing him out in the wild. Ogling you from across the room as if he wants to eat you alive.”

Exasperated by Morgan’s observation, Claire still can’t help searching for Neil where she’d last seen him making his way to where the rest of the St. Bonaventure folks are gathering. When she finds him, he’s back to his idle conversation with Noreen and Marta.

“You’re imagining things that aren’t there. We’ve been nothing but professional. Trust me, he overcompensates all the time.” Even when Neil had convinced her to sneak away to his Miami medical convention with him, he’d been ridiculously careful where any of the conference attendees could spot them being less than professional. Though, once they’d left the hotel, all bets had been off. He’d had a hard time keeping his hands to himself during those few days.

Morgan waits for the bartender to hand over Claire’s beer before explaining herself. They wander out of the way of the people waiting behind them to stand on the other side of Lim and Glassman. She’s a little annoyed with Morgan’s snark. They mostly get along well these days, but she has her moments of being a pain in the ass.

“Oh, at work you’re on your best behavior. But during off hours, Melendez is definitely the possessive type. He really enjoys having you on his arm.” Noticing Claire’s not-so-pleased look, she puts a defensive hand up. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s adorable. It’s just something I’m not used to seeing is all.”

Claire narrows her eyes at her friend. “You’ve barely seen us outside of work. Probably just at Park’s wedding.”

“Where he practically attached himself to your hip the entire time, arm around your chair, holding hands and practically skipping down the aisle himself.” Claire laughs at the description. “And at Semler’s retirement dinner?”

“We weren’t even sitting together!” Claire points out, incredulous.

“And he pouted about it all night. Puppy dog eyes, for hours. It proves my point.”

Claire shakes her head, letting out a deep breath before finally taking a sip of her beer. Truth be told, Morgan’s not really wrong. Neil is a bit touchy-feely outside of work, probably because they have to practice so much restraint during their normal work day.

“You’re also really good at not squabbling at work, which is better than a lot of people. That would be irritating. He and Lim could get so annoying at times.”

“I remember you telling me that.” Claire thinks back on that time in both her and Neil’s lives, which now is a bit of a fog. “I must have just ignored it. They were together one minute and then the next I’m in surgery with Park, and Neil’s very matter-of-factly telling all of us they’d broken up. The experience has definitely made him really squirrely about how he conducts himself at work. Sometimes too well,” she adds. “I think he doesn’t want to deal with people making trouble for us, and he’s probably a little afraid about things turning out like his last relationships. We both love it at St. Bonaventure. One of us would leave if we had to, but we’d rather not have to.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. First, there’s no way that man is letting you go and vice versa.” Claire smirks at her, but her eyes soften accepting the truth of that. “And second, people barely know you’re dating. By the way, that new scrub nurse totally as eyes for Melendez, so watch your back.”

“The one that just started?” Morgan nods. “Hmm. She’s been really nice.”

“Then she definitely doesn’t know you’re together, or she’d be out for blood.” Morgan sips her beer, and then recalls something that makes her snicker. “I think the only time I’ve ever seen you two fight was before you were even together. Remember that case we worked on with the Aidens? You two really got into it.” She takes another pull of her beer. “Although, I do feel a little bad about that since I kind of instigated that situation by making the favoritism complaint.” She turns to Claire. “Good thing I’ve grown since then,” she grins.

Claire winces. “Uh, Morgan, about that …”

“So, you do remember? You were so pissed at me.”

“Uh, yeah, I was pretty angry. But I feel like I need to come clean about something, and you might get mad at me.”

This seems to interest Morgan. “If you need to tell me something that you think will make me mad, it’s probably something devious that’ll actually impress me.” She smiles and prods Claire to continue.”

“You see,” Claire sighs. “I may have been so annoyed with you that I told Neil you were the one that filed the favoritism complaint. And he might have been a bit annoyed too. So, we kind of fabricated that fight to make you feel bad.”

Morgan straightens. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“But you were really going at each other. It was pretty awkward.”

“Well, that was the point,” Claire says, a tiny grin forming.

Morgan crosses her arms, beer sloshing a bit at the move. “So, the two of you _pretended_ to have a blowup to cover up what? Were you two hooking up back then?”

“No! We were friends. Just pissed off that you’d caused so much trouble. It really did mess things up for a while. Park can back me up. Melendez started second guessing himself and said we couldn’t be friends. I had to track him down and practically beg him to continue mentoring me.”

“That certainly worked out,” Morgan snarks, but with humor rather than animosity. “So, after the fight, you got me to apologize and then you two snuck off to giggle about it?”

Claire shrugs. “We met up for bowling, actually. We didn’t laugh at you, though. Melendez was annoyingly sympathetic. Said I needed to be more understanding about your insecurities.”

“Really? Go figure.” Morgan looks quickly between her and Neil, still chatting across the room, and considers this new information. “How refreshingly petty. I kind of love it.”

Chuckling, Claire takes a sip of her drink and shakes her head. “Morgan, you are always full of surprises. But we do probably owe you a debt of gratitude. Until you made that complaint, we were mainly spending time outside of work on our runs. But after I pled my case to Neil and he gave himself permission to be real friends, we moved to dinners and bowling and other stuff.”

“And that was the beginning of the end, so to speak. I’ll take that bit of credit, thank you.”

“You should keep that to yourself, though. It’s complicated enough with us. I don’t want to give people any ideas.”

She and Neil had kept their relationship under wraps for an absurd amount of time after the earthquake. It’d been easy enough to hide during Neil’s sabbatical and when he’d returned to work part-time. By then they weren’t even hiding it, having disclosed to Lim and Glassman and cleared HR, though they tried to be discrete. No one even noticed until it became really obvious that they arrived and left together more often than not.

There had a been a few uncomfortable weeks of the whole, ‘did you hear about Browne and Melendez’ type of gossip, which had sucked. But when the new resident from oncology started dating a minor celebrity and a nurse from pediatrics won the lottery, they became old news and people got used to it. They’d both been worried about Claire’s reputation, but people actually seemed fine with them dating now that Neil wasn’t her boss. No one who’s seen them together – professionally or personally – can deny how compatible they are.

“I’m not ‘people’ I’m your friend,” Morgan says, interrupting Claire’s distracted thoughts. “And things aren’t as complicated as they could have been if you’d gotten chief resident,” she points out. That honor had instead gone to Park, and everyone seems content with that choice.

No one mentions the underlying reality that Claire had probably been the frontrunner – if not for the fact that she’s dating an Attending.

Even though her team wouldn’t have had a problem with it, and even though Neil would soon be getting a whole new and different batch of residents to terrorize, not everyone would see it that way. It’s one thing to not mind the two of them dating and another to feed any speculation about Claire’s accomplishments as a resident.

And Claire doesn’t mind either. Being chief resident is a lot of work, and she’d never wanted it like Morgan or Park. Sometimes she forgets how much more competitive their residency had been their first year based on the stories they told, not to mention working with that nightmare Dr. Coyle. Unlike Neil, Coyle would, unsurprisingly, pit them against each other and arbitrarily played favorites depending on his mood. Starting her residency out with Shaun and Jared, both mild-mannered colleagues who supported and challenged in equal measure, had really set a different tone.

Claire has plenty going for her professionally anyway, so not being chief resident isn’t a big deal. And it’s definitely a boost for Park with employers who are more wary of hiring him because of his age, an unfair but serious reality. It seems fitting given the difficult decision he’d made to finish out his residency in San Jose rather than returning to Phoenix – in a wonderful turn of events, his wife and son had relocated to California for him.

Claire moves aside so a group of giggling twenty-somethings can pass by her to get to the bar.

“It’s really getting packed in here. I was worried people would be afraid to attend because of what happened last time. It’s nice to see the neighborhood support.”

“And the beer’s not half bad either,” Morgan adds. Claire taps her glass to Morgan’s in a toast, and they take a healthy drag.

“Slow down there, you two,” Lim says moving from her conversation with Glassman and his wife. “The night’s still young.” The three of them laugh and compare notes on the beer.

“Oh, looks like they’re about to make the big presentation,” Morgan says, pointing to Noreen and Marta slowly heading towards the bar as they greet people along the way. Neil wavers behind them, looking lost in thought. Though, when he catches Claire watching him approach, a flicker in his eye and an instant grin in response to her makes her heart race.

“Totally professional,” Morgan teases.

Neil turns in their direction to join his colleagues and girlfriend. He has to pass by the group of women who’d just reached the bar, and if he notices the widened eyes and jaws dropping as he passes, he doesn’t let on. Granted, he does seem focused on getting to them. Or getting to Claire, rather.

Out of nowhere, one of the women bumps into him, nearly sloshing her drink on his arm but barely missing.

“Oh, I’m _so_ sorry.” She reaches up to run her hand along Neil’s arm checking for any dampness from her spill – and likely feeling him up in the process. “Did I get you? I can be so clumsy, especially in crowds.” She bats her eyelashes at him and lets her fingers linger along his forearm.

Claire, Morgan, and Lim watch from a few feet away and can barely contain their laughter.

“Uh, no harm, no foul. I’m fine.” Neil continues his path to the others, but the woman holds onto his arm while her friends watch and snicker.

“Can I maybe buy you a drink? You know, to apologize for almost drenching you with my beer.”

Neil smiles, potentially unaware of the effect even his most benign grin has on this woman. “No need.” He raises the half-empty glass he’s carrying with him. “I’m good.”

Morgan leans in to give her color commentary on what’s going down in front of them. “I hope the owners invested in a good sprinkler system because this woman’s panties are about to catch fire, and we’re dangerously close to another catastrophe.” Claire almost chokes on her beer, while Lim chuckles, not disagreeing with Morgan’s read of the situation.

Again, Neil tries to extricate himself from the conversation, but the woman has literally gotten her claws into him and is reluctant to let him get away.

“Well, you could always stick around, and I can buy you the next one,” she offers.

Claire knows Neil pretty well by now, and she can see the signs of his annoyance creeping in. “That’s very kind of you,” he says curtly. “But like I said, I’m good. Enjoy your evening, though.” He pulls at his arm gently but firmly, dislodging her hand, smiles once more, and moves on.

“She shoots … and she fouls,” Morgan announces. Claire wonders how many beers she had before they’d all arrived. Tipsy Morgan is rather amusing.

When Neil finally arrives at their group, he pats Glassman on the shoulder and kisses Debbie on the cheek. He raises his beer to Lim and Morgan before easing beside and then behind Claire, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Hey,” he says, kissing the top of her head.

Morgan’s smirk is well-earned. This is pretty standard touchy-feeliness from him. A few feet away, the group of women, scowl and then mutter among themselves about their friend’s strike-out.

“Such a ladies’ man,” Lim teases. Neil nudges her in the arm with his elbow and she shoves him right back.

“I don’t think that’s what they’re saying about me right now,” Neil jokes, noticing the glares the women are sending Claire’s way.

“I think they’re discussing a few choice words about me, actually.” But she shrugs. She got the guy, after all.

“Oh, looks like Marta and Noreen are about to make their big speech.” Morgan glances at Claire. “This should be good.” Claire laughs and nods as Neil squeezes her in his arm

Standing up on a small platform behind the bar, one of Marta’s employees hands her a microphone and cuts the music. “Can I get everyone’s attention for a few. It’s my bar and it’s taken a lot to get here, so I’m going to have my say.”

The people around the bar chuckle and the room begins to quiet down as everyone turns their attention to the women taking center stage in the back of the room.

“Thank you all for being here. It means more to me than I could ever find words for. I don’t need to repeat the crazy, terrible, amazing story of how we came to be here today.” She pauses and looks around the room. “Okay, I’ll repeat some of it, because it’s a good story.”

Everyone in the room laughs, looking forward to Marta’s tale.

“About a year ago, we were gathered here for a fundraiser to celebrate the last time I cheated death with the help of my friend Dr. Melendez over there.” She points to Neil, who beams at her.

“My pleasure. But watch your footing on that platform, will you?” he shouts back. More laughter spreads at his teasing.

“Point taken, Melendez,” she agrees, Noreen is chuckling too, but stands a little closer to her wife just in case. “Anyway, like tonight, we came together for a joyful occasion and a bit of bad luck meant the day ended in tragedy for many in our community when the earthquake hit. People were lost here. Others injured or forever changed.”

Claire takes Neil’s hand and holds it firmly in hers. He brushes his lips against the crown of her head in comfort.

“I honor them tonight and every night for what they and their families have gone through,” Marta continues. “I didn’t escape without another brush with mortality, traumatizing my long-suffering better half,” she says lightly and kisses Noreen’s hand quickly. “Coming out on the other end, I’m stronger and more grateful than ever to be able to stand here today.

“But we had help. The first responders, the engineers, and a few doctors who went above and beyond for me once again. When a beam landed on me, I was in danger of becoming paralyzed by my injury. The doctors who responded caught what was wrong before we could have done irreparable damage and they operated right here in the middle of debris and a bona fide disaster to save my life. Dr. Shaun Murphy, whose back at the hospital working tonight, made that initial call.

“Dr. Neil Melendez once again stepped in to fix me despite his own life-threatening injuries. What an idiot that guy is! It’s a good thing he’s so good looking.”

Claire and the rest of Neil’s colleagues erupt in laughter with Neil shaking his head at Marta’s ribbing.

“Once that stubborn mule was kicked out and sent to the hospital to get his own insides rearranged, Dr. Claire Browne, who’d insisted on the procedure that undoubtedly saved my life and Dr. Audrey Lim, the best damn trauma surgeon on the planet as far as I’m concerned, got to work. They opened me up did their thing in the middle of a disaster area and stitched me back up. And this is my favorite part – I mean I was unconscious for it but it sounds really cool. They’re worried about me bleeding out and Dr. Browne,” she laughs at her own anecdote, “Dr. Browne runs and grabs a beer engine from right here at the bar to pump my own blood back into me, giving them time to finish the surgery and get me out of here. I have never been so thankful for ordering top of the line gear in all my life.”

The crowd seems a bit stunned, many staring in their direction as Marta recounts her story. Sure, it’s funny, but there’s a seriousness to her words, too, at how close she came to dying that night.

“I didn’t die. And neither did this place. I recovered, we took care of business, and we rebuilt. Noreen and I are so thankful for these blessings, and not a day goes by that we don’t appreciate each other and what we’ve gone through. And we don’t want another day to go by without acknowledging, at least a little bit, the folks that helped along the way.

“So tonight, at our grand re-opening, we are unveiling our new signature beers that will remain on tap for as long as this place is pumping out brew.” Noreen reaches around and uncovers the taps that had previously been hidden from view. “Our new Bold Statement line, Guardians of St. B!”

At the bar, there are three taps, each a similar design, though slightly different color schemes. One has a striking red and black image, the second is a soft blue with an apple, and the last is a bright floral design.

“The Lim,” Marta explains pointing to the red and black tap, “has a robust, brash flavor and clean finish that’s sure to be a best seller in line with the Bold Statement brand.” Lim seems to approve of the assessment as Morgan laughs at the description. Marta moves on to the blue tap. “We’ve got the Murphy, our cider representing with a crisp, complex apple flavor profile.”

“I hear it’s even Shaun-certified,” Claire says to the group, snickering.

“High praise,” Lim confirms.

Finally, Marta runs a hand over the final floral tap, “And our beloved Browne brew, a mild beer that hits you with a bit of the punch in the finish, slightly sweet, and a dependable go-to for any beer lover.” Neil squeezes Claire once more as she raises her chin in pride.

“And we’ve got one last creation that’s not at the bar, but is no less special. We decided to dip our toe in a different direction and our old friend gave us the opportunity. In the back, we’ve got a very limited-edition Bold Statement concoction in the Guardians of St. B. line: the Melendez isn’t ready yet and won’t be for another few years – well one production of it. By then, we think it’ll be a pretty tasty whiskey. But we couldn’t leave you hanging so we have the bottle design for you.”

She points to the TV screens in the corner which now show a bottle with a mostly plain label adorned with just the horns of a stag inching up the side. “We did pay special detail to the authenticity of the image from the original tattoo, so if you pass by him tonight you can confirm that we got it right.”

All eyes turn to Melendez, but Claire blocks any view of the only spot where you can see his tattoo.

Neil gives a thumbs up. “Looks good, Marta. I could do without the target on my back all night, though,” he shouts up at her again. She laughs not seeming the least bit sorry.

“I’m sure some of the ladies over there are sad they can’t get a taste of that Melendez,” a tipsy Morgan comments before downing the rest of her beer. Lim and Claire crack up at that while Neil glares at his former resident for her not untrue but certainly unwelcome snark.

Looking up at him, Claire’s giggles subside and she reaches up to stroke the edge of his collar where his signature tattoo peeks out. When her finger brushes an exposed part of his neck, he pinches her side where his hand rests. “You better behave yourself,” he whispers in her ear. “We are in public.” Remembering Morgan poking fun at Neil’s PDA, she decides to follow his advice.

“Drink up, everybody!” Marta declares, waving for their group to come up.

“You all come over here and get the first pour!” Noreen calls out.

The room erupts in applause as Lim, Neil, and Claire beam, so pleased and excited for the honor. Many in the crowd shout their thanks and congratulations to them. Claire feels a little embarrassed by it but also proud. They’d all done great work that night, and Marta is right.

They’d survived.

Neil lets go of her and follows Claire and Lim as they make their way over to Marta and Noreen to trade their mostly empty glasses for a pour of the new beer. The five of them toast and taste while the photographer snaps a few candid photos of the occasion. And all are delighted at how delicious the beers have turned out. Glancing back at their friends, they all grab some extra tasters to bring to the others as the rest of the crowd gathers in for samples as well.

But Marta stops them. “Hey you too, I have one more trick up my sleeve. I know it didn’t work out so well last time, but I’d love to take you to the back and show you where your whiskey-baby is gestating."

Claire cackles at the description and looks at Neil to see if he’s up for it. He’s been relaxed all night, but she could see it being a bit stressful to retrace his steps from last time. There doesn’t seem to be any stress in his demeanor, though, just excitement.

“I’d love to,” Neil tells her without hesitation. “We’ll just drop off these drinks and then let’s do it.” Claire nods as well.

Beer delivered, they follow Marta over to the side door leading to the brewery proper.

“This is going to be fun,” Neil tells her, taking her hand. “Much better than last time, that’s for sure.”

Claire squeezes his hand. “Definitely. We’ll just have to make a few better memories this time.” Neil smiles down at her and leans in for a quick kiss.

Marta chuckles in front of them. “Okay, knock it off. We’ve got a tour to get underway.”

“I can’t help myself.” Marta rolls her eyes at Neil’s excuse. “But we’ll be on our best behavior.”

“Right,” she says, skeptical. “Okay kids, let’s go.”

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I don't know anything about beer. So there's some dramatic license taken on that part!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for sticking with this. I hope you had a nice journey with me through the story.

_**It's Love** _

Neil’s struck by how quiet it is after the door closes behind them. The buzz of the party is a distant noise that grows weaker as they proceed down the hallway.

The tap of Claire’s heels and the idle conversation from Marta are a pleasant rhythm. He focuses on those sounds as they pass the spot where he'd been struck by that falling beam. Everything is repaired, clean lines and fresh paint still evident. He tries not to react, though Claire picks up on his distraction and silence. The sureness of her hand in his, a simple glance into her eyes so full of compassion, his own smile of reassurance, it's all enough to urge him forward.

As they get to the main floor of the brewery, winding down the stairwell and stepping into the balminess of the industrial space, Claire questions Marta about Neil’s whiskey – how much they’ll make, how long it’ll take, when they'll get their first taste.

“I think we’re in it for the long haul. I mean, I don’t know if we’ll still be around in 25 years, but it’d be cool to have a whiskey that is. We’ll have a special party when it’s ready.”

Claire laughs, “I think that’s a good goal. But first is the three-year?”

“Yeah, that’s what we decided on. With the flavor profile we’re looking for, that’s the minimum we’d want to do.”

The whole idea is still rather surreal for Neil. “Marta, again, I’m so honored. I know we all are. This kind of legacy is incredible.”

She waves him off. “It’s the very least I could do in my professional capacity. Oh, and Claire, we’re entering ‘the Browne’ in a craft beer contest. It tested fantastically. If we place, we can run it in the international competition.”

Claire is taken aback, a little shocked and speechless. It’s more than enough for her to have the honor of something named after her, but this seems to please her on another level. “I don’t know what to say! That sounds awesome. I hope it does well.”

“I’m sure it’ll quietly kick those other beers’ asses,” Neil affirms. “Just like its namesake.”

Marta groans. “Neil, tone it down. She’s already letting you hold her hand. You don’t have to try so hard to be wonderful.”

“Try?” he shoots right back. “My natural charm worked just fine.”

“Ha! Is that the story you’re sticking with?” Claire says.

Neil laughs, bringing her hand to his lips for a kiss. “You bet I am.”

“Disgusting, you two. Such saps.”

“Takes one to know one,” Neil replies.

As they continue to poke fun at one another – mostly Marta and Claire at Neil's expense – they round the corner and enter a smaller room. More than half the space is devoted to the storage of packaging materials, but one corner houses rows of extended piping, tanks, and equipment along the walls. It's a much smaller operation than the brewery while still taking up a fair bit of room.

“We were experimenting for a while, but we’re finally in production. The first batch is just around the corner.” A notification tone slows her progress, and she pulls out her phone. “Ugh, they need me over at the front of the house again. An investor is asking for something, and when they say jump, I say how high.” She pockets her phone and turns around. “Hey, Neil, you’ve been back here before. You want to show Claire and then head back up? No lingering, but you did come all this way.”

Putting his arm around Claire’s waist, Neil watches as Marta backtracks and passes them. “Yeah, no problem. We’ll just take a quick peek. See you in a few.” Marta waves and leaves them to it.

Claire stops him before they can get too far into the room. “You sure you want to check it out? I don’t need to see it if it’s weird for us to be down here.”

Neil nudges her along. “Marta said it’s okay.” He glances at her again, noticing her concern for him. “And I’m fine. It’ll only take a minute. It _is_ pretty cool. Don’t you want to check out my whiskey-baby?”

“Okay, let’s not call it that anymore,” Claire says. “It’s weird when _you_ say it. I don’t know if you can hear it around your big ego, but trust me, it is.” He laughs but leads her past the equipment to several racks of barrels lined up in the corner.

They walk over and peek at the specs, noting when each was filled and how long it's expected to age. He joins Claire as she leans over to try to smell anything, but all they get is the odor of the charred oak. There’s a label on each identifying it as “Guardians – Melendez.” She runs her hands across the name and then whips her phone out to take a picture.

“Okay, this is cool. Thanks for insisting.” She stands on her toes to deliver a peck on the lips, which he happily accepts before her attention returns to the whiskey collection.

Neil's already seen this area, so he trails behind her to enjoy her reaction. She continues down the line of barrels until she gets to the last rack at he end. He waits for her to notice the difference to that one.

There’s a small black box resting on top one of the barrels at eye level as if waiting for her to arrive.

He catches the exact moment she notices, watches her body freeze and her mouth drop slightly open. “Melendez?” she warns, glancing back at him before slowly approaching the box. Neil strolls over to her and plants himself at her side. He doesn’t answer, wanting her to continue investigating while letting her take things in at her own pace. “This better not be …”

He grins. “Why don’t you open it and see,” he taunts.

In the silent room, only a few mechanical sounds in the distance, he hears her forceful exhale. She takes one slow step and then another. Before long, she’s standing in front of the barrel and staring at the box, afraid to pick it up.

“Go ahead,” he urges. “It won’t bite.”

Claire shifts her head to glare at him, yet complies. With steady fingers that he’s seen a million times perform the most delicate of actions, she reaches for the box. Pulling it toward her, she grips the top, stills, and then slowly opens it. 

And then she erupts in relieved yet joyous laughter.

Dipping her fingers in the box, she pulls out a seashell, dark and mottled on top with a jagged iridescence underneath. Neil closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her. Her examination and curiosity over the object amuse him, and he responds by kissing her cheek.

“Did you really think I’d put a ring in there? I don’t have a death wish.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you. You _are_ a hopeless romantic, and now you’re having to dumb down your skills with me.”

“Oh, you have your sappy moments. And obviously, it’s worth it because we have such great sex.” Claire laughs and smacks him lightly on the arm. She can't deny her surrender to the romantic bath for two or candlelight massage he's inflicted on her from time to time. And she'd practically fallen into his arms when he surprised her by upgrading to a king-size bed a few months into their relationship.

“Alright, Melendez, explain yourself. What’s going on here?”

The fact that he’s left a random object for her to find is the odder part of this equation, not that a real proposal isn’t involved. They’d decided a few weeks ago on that issue – and were ecstatic to agree that marriage is what they both want.

Of course, “deciding” on that was having a reasonable, adult conversation about the future of their relationship where she threatened to leave him if he did something as stupid as get down on one knee with a ring. Neil had been a little put out, though not surprised. She indulges his romantic side, but mostly he understands his overtures will not have the effect he wants. And he’d quietly respected her reasons when she explained that a decision to get married should be a mutual one, not some caveman gesture to ambush her into a lifetime commitment – her words, of course.

When Claire had mentioned hating romantics, she’d been serious.

So when the subject of marriage had come up, they’d talked it out. The conversation itself had gone from zero to practically jetting off to Vegas in one evening. They'd made preliminary plans, set a date and everything, including negotiations over the parameters:

No engagement ring – a waste of money and not her style, Claire declared.

Bachelor and bachelorette parties are acceptable. If he gets Lim then she gets Park (though they'll likely end up just combining the two anyway).

A church wedding is fine but not a Catholic service, which works out since their favorite hospital chaplain is happy to officiate and offer her church for the ceremony.

Invitations to exes are on a case-by-case basis. Lim is automatically in. Jared and Dash are approved as well. They're still on the fence about Jessica, who Claire thinks won't want to come anyway (she's probably right).

He has to wear a tie. Non-negotiable.

She’ll let him shove a piece of cake in her face when they cut it as long as she can return the favor.

She’ll consider taking his last name (he thinks she’s leaning toward taking it officially but not using it professionally).

Baby-making sooner rather than later, but not something they need to figure out right now. The whiskey-baby will have to do for the time being.

They're hoping they can sweet-talk Morgan's mom and brother into doing custom centerpieces for the reception, and they're both really excited to give away mini-puzzles to each guest. It's kind of crazy to Neil how it's all been civilized and kind of fun to plan. He has to admit, he likes thinking about their future together like this.

And she’s allowed him one big indulgence: he gets to surprise her with the honeymoon.

Neil takes the shell from her and turns it over in his fingers. “I’ve had this for years. That trip I took before med school? I brought this home with me from Ko Lanta, that island in Thailand I told you about. Those eight days had been such an unbelievable time in my life, I almost didn’t want to ever talk about, thinking it would somehow make it less real or something.” He laughs at himself over that. “I did say I’d go back sometime, but when I did, it would be with someone special. Someone who’d be the only person in the world I’d want to share it with. So, after our beautiful wedding where we’ll agree to be stuck with each other forever, that’s where we’ll spend our honeymoon. Eight days on an island that’s a little less remote than when I first visited, but where there are still plenty of amazing memories waiting for us.”

As he talks, Claire leans her head back on his shoulder, cradling her drink in one hand and his arm in the other. Neil reaches over to return the shell to the box. “We can return the shell if you want. Pick out a new one together.”

Claire smiles. “No, we should keep this one. Maybe put it on the mantle or frame it or something. It’ll be a reminder that I let you romance me sometimes.”

“A small victory! I’ll take it,” replies Neil as Claire turns in his arms. Her eyes are a bit moist and misty and it surprises him. “Oh hey, did I finally put a little dent in that cold, non-romantic heart of yours?”

Sniffling a little, Claire clears her throat to get a hold of herself. “I wouldn’t call it a dent. Maybe a ding or a scratch.”

“Well, that’s a victory too.” Neil leans down and kisses her slowly and fully. He takes her beer and carefully sets it down on the barrel next to his own. Hands now free, he wraps them around her, pulling her to him and deepening their kiss. She brings one of her hands to back of his neck, holding him to her.

When they finally break apart, she presses her cheek to him, wanting to remain close. He has no objections at all to that. She leans back and cradles his face. “I love it, Neil. Thank you for wanting to share something so special with me.”

He turns his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “I want to share everything with you. This is only one of many things.” Her beaming smile elicits one of his own, reminds him that she’s his, and she wants this just as much as he does.

Taking in the space they’re in, he sighs, remembering how it looked over a year ago – a wreck and in shambles, a scene of tragedy and second chances. To be here like this feels like the most precious gift. Returning his gaze to Claire, he can tell she’s guessed what he’s thinking about and holds him tighter.

“We have all the time in the world now,” she reminds him, her usual response when he gets too somber about the difficult path they’ve had to travel to get here. Reaching up for another sweet but brief kiss, she steps out of his embrace but takes his hands to head back the way they came. “Now let’s get back to the party before Marta sends security after us.”

Neil laughs. “Oh, she wouldn’t do that. She’s in on the whole thing. There are actually some people in the world who are on the side of romance.”

She smirks back at him. “I’ll have to thank her then.”

Before they get too far, Neil stops and goes back to retrieve their drinks, handing hers over and taking her hand again."But yes, let's get back. The music was just kicking in, and you owe me a dance or two. I have a few more moves I plan to put on you."

Claire giggles at his forwardness. "I might have to wait in line behind your fan club, though."

"Nope. You are numbers one through one hundred on my dance card."

"What about Lim and Morgan? It'd be rude to deprive your friends and colleagues of such a skilled partner."

Neil laughs. "Audrey and Morgan are terrible dancers, so no, I'll stick to my regular partner." He pulls her to him, encouraging her to grab hold of his arm as he escorts her back to party. "We might be too hot for this crowd, though. We can't let loose like we do at home." Ever since Neil walked in on Claire one evening prancing around his kitchen to some sultry R&B number, they'd made it a regular part of their home-life, even if only a couple times a week. That first night, he'd snuck up on her, sliding into her personal space to move his body with hers. And after that, on any given night they could be found grooving to club bangers, moving furniture around to practice their Latin dancing, or swaying to slow jams. More often than not, it led to sex in an unconventional part of the house.

And if they both get their way, they'll get to dance together with that kind of abandon for the rest of their long lives.

They slowly retrace their steps, Claire, relaxed and leisurely on his arm. With one last look around, he thinks he’s ready to leave it all behind, what happened here a year ago – the brushes with death, the changes it’s made in his life, some unfortunate, some amazing. It’s paved the way for him to be standing here next to the woman he’s allowed himself to love, joking about the life they’re building together. There aren’t words to express his gratitude for it all.

He turns to Claire, locked into her beautiful, expressive eyes. “Here’s to do-overs,” he says. But instead of raising his glass, he leans down for one last lingering kiss that she returns with a deep love and enthusiasm. And then they stroll back toward their community, their colleagues and friends, their waiting life.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! All after-the-fact song references are credited to my deep listen of Jill Scott's "Who Is Jill Scott?" over the last couple of weeks. It all finally clicked now that I'm done. Until the next one, thanks again for reading!


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